#I tried. and I’m happy I could pull out the hard of hearing card | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingsbychlo · 1 year

Text

by moonlight | azriel

summary; you come home after a long few days away.

word count; 3804

notes; I got suddenly inspired by last nights cass fic. what can I say? I’ve been wanting to write for two weeks with no energy or time, I’m so happy to finally be able to.

As the night swept away from around you, you turned, finding that Rhys was already gone as you twisted. A simple drop off, that had been it, and the dark and stars were swallowing him once again. You couldn't blame him, it was the middle of the night, and he was practically falling asleep at his desk when you’d found him. You were almost falling asleep where you stood.

Light still filled the rooms, spilling out into the inky darkness between pale pillars, and you followed the muffled voices through to the dining room. As you entered, two heads snapped up from the table, matching smiles painting across their faces as they took you in. Cassian and Nesta were sitting at the table, a half-eaten board of cheese and crackers, two empty wine bottles and a third broken into, cards scattered around them.

“You’re home early!” Nesta perked up, and you shrugged, dropping your bag down from your shoulder to sit at your feet as you wandered over. Leaning your hip on the table, the yawn threatening to break free from you was hardly contained.

“I worked hard to get it done quicker, you know how I hate going away for too long.” You truly did, the worst part about your job was the days away on end on missions, too silent and too lonely on missions as you spent time away from your family.

“That’s how I trained ya’.” Cassian winked, your brows raising at him as you reached out to pluck a cracker and a slice of cheese from the platter, nibbling on the end of it.

“How you trained me?” You flicked a loose piece of cracker at him, and it bounced off his forehead, crumbling into pieces that rained down onto his lap as his mate snickered.

“Alright, how we trained each other.” His amendment was good enough, you were too tired to argue anything else, and he beamed at the nod you gave. Nesta chuckled again, smirking as she laid down another card on the set-up before you both. Cassian took it in, eyes widening a fraction, and then he let out a filthy curse under his breath. Nesta kicked his shin under the table, but the prideful expression only grew at his frustration.

Swallowing down the snack, you leaned over his shoulder, examining his card through sleep-blurred eyes and an exhaustion-muddled mind. You pointed to the King of Hearts, and he was quick to lay it down. After a half-second, Nesta was letting out an equally terrible curse and Cassian kicked her ankle this time. She kicked back.

“How are you still beating us at this game when you can barely stand up?” Your friend was not happy, her brows pulling tight as she concentrated harder on the strategy game before herself.

“Nesta’s just mad because now in one move, I’m winning!” She stuck her tongue out at you and Cassian. “There’s some tea in the kitchen, go get a mug and go to bed. You look exhausted.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear. Always the charmer, Cass.” Despite it all, you leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as one arm wrapped around your waist to squeeze you to his side in a hug, eyes never leaving the cards. You shifted, kicking your bag to the other side of the table and pressing a matching kiss to the top of Nesta’s head. She puckered her lips and blew a kiss back, equally focused. Scooping up your bag and throwing it over one sore shoulder, you tried not to groan.

“Goodnight, you two.”

“Night!” They sang in unison as you walked away, headed to the kitchen as a pot of hot tea called your name. “Y’know, for that comment before, you’ll never have enough moves to win later tonight, now.”

You smirked at their conversation as it faded into the background. The kitchen smelled like brewed herbs that made the cloudy tiredness of your head only thicken, your eyes feeling so heavy you could fall asleep where you stood. Grabbing two mugs from the top shelf, you poured hot tea into both, inhaling the streams of swirling steam and feeling a little tension melt from your body.

A shower, that's what you needed before you could sleep. You were stiff and sore and achy, and a hot shower would release all of that before you could get a good night’s sleep. Maybe the whole day’s sleep as well. You’d need it.

Making your way back through the corridors, every step closer and closer to your mate made your heart swell, feeling as though it was going to burst right out of your heart. Though you’d never put your walls up against him, you both knew that the bond had to stay quiet and cold and borderline dead when you were on missions, and one of your favourite parts of coming home was getting to feel it come back to life, feeling your chest spark back to life and the warmth of his love lighting you up.

Currently, the feeling inside of your chest was utter content relaxation, steady and soft and barely there. Not the usual influx of emotions, passionate and strong and heady like usual, the kind you got when he was tired, asleep, or drunk. Your suspicions were only confirmed as you used your elbow to open the door quietly, the door scraping across soft carpet to reveal the large bedroom you shared.

Laying on the huge Illyrian-accommodating bed, spread out across the mattress was your lover, wings folded away behind his back as he sat nestled among the piles of pillows. Plump lips parted, he was taking steady breaths, hair messy and glasses askew across his face. He was most definitely asleep, his shadows were practically motionless and they spread out across the carpet to all corners of the room, fading back to the places the candlelight didn’t reach as he had no use for them. He didn’t even flinch when the door clicked shut.

Putting down your bag, it was abandoned to simply be sorted tomorrow instead, and the two mugs were left on the countertop by the door. Kneeling down, your knees ached as you undid the laces on your boots, taking off your boots one-by-one and flexing your toes, wiggling them now that they were free. Placing them by the much larger pair sitting by the door, the image made you smile. You hang your jacket on the coat rack next to his, and padded near-silently across the room with one hot-ceramic mug in hand to get your robe.

Azriel didn’t stir, not as you got undressed, or put on your robe, not even as you brushed the hair away from his forehead as you leaned over him. The curl fell back down over the rim of his glasses, and you chuckled at the untameable hair. Lifting them off of his face gently, he let out a particularly rough sigh, nose scrunching as you took the glasses away, folding them up and putting them on the bedside table, atop the book he was currently working his way through.

No shirt, only a pair of black boxers as he’d obviously fallen asleep halfway through his evening plans. Golden skin mottled with pink scars and tattoos and the occasional hidden mole. He was like artwork, a pretty mess all for you. Bed-rumpled hair, pouty lips and candlelight flickering through the room and making every hard line and dip of his body seem emphasised.

Gods, he was a work of art.

He was your work of art. Your love, your mess, your man to take care of.

Next, you gathered up the papers scattered around him and his pens, clearing everything from the covers to the messy surface of his desk, and making a note to get him to tidy it up tomorrow before he got stressed. The curl was back, and you brushed it away, leaving a kiss on his forehead before it fell right back. He was so beautiful, but without those stress lines marring his pretty smile and his brows pulled tight together, he was ethereal. Taking a moment to appreciate it, you ran your finger along one cheekbone, and down the bridge of his nose.

“I love you.”

He huffed a little in his sleep, like his soul had heard yours. Pulling the covers up from the other side of the bed, your side, you cleared them away, before scooping your arms up underneath his body. With a grunt and a strain that ricocheted through your entire body, you rolled him over, all six-foot-five of Illyrian goodness until he was flopping onto his stomach, cheek pressed into the new pillow and he shuffled to pull it closer to his chest subconsciously.

He was tense, you could tell from the still-tight tuck of his wings to his back, crumpled from how he’d fallen asleep, and the taut muscles along his body. With a hand settling along mole-speckled skin between his shoulder blades, you rubbed lightly in circles, pressure building as you lowered along his spine. Like magic, as they always did, his wings drooped dramatically, spreading out along the bed and filling the space, his entire body all but melting into the bed, a trick spot on his body that always released everything he was holding onto.

Such a burst of love exploded within your chest that your throat felt tight and your eyes almost watered, and you rubbed at your chest, trying to contain the feeling within you lest it wake him up. It would be something he’d never let you live down if you woke him up being too in love with him. Your cheeks ached from the smile on your face, but you could live with that.

You were tempted to say screw it all, to crawl into bed beside him, tuck yourself under one of those wings, under one of his arms, to kiss at his jaw and cheeks until he woke up and tugged you close. You could feel the warmth of his body, the way his legs would tangle with your own and the bump of his heart against his chest that would match your own beat for beat. You trembled a little, arms wrapping around yourself as you took a deep breath.

No. If you didn’t have a hot shower now, you’d be locked up and tense all week, and you hated that feeling. If you weren’t going to stretch it all out, you at least had to shower. Plus, you were pretty sure there was still mud in your hair and sweat coating your body. Taking your mug of tea with you after tucking the blankets up and around his body, you made your way to the bathroom.

It was too bright, even with only one faelight lit, and you bit back a groan at the glare of pearly white tiles and marble countertops. Stripping off the robe and leaving it on the hook on the back of the half-closed door, you turned on the shower, leaving it to heat up as steam began pouring out. Another swig of tea, and you were untangling your hair from the right braids you wore to keep it contained and out of your face while you worked.

The rest of the bathroom felt cold as steam swirled out, surrounding you in delicate twists the way shadows normally would, affectionate and sweet and loving. The warmth they offered was much like that of Azriel’s touch. The sooner you were showered and clean, the sooner you were curling up beside him in bed.

That was the only motivation you had for stepping under the stream of water, eyes closing as you let the warmth pour over you, soaking you from head to toe and washing away the awful grime and dirt that felt like it had been building on your skin for years. It eased a sigh from you, your body finally slumping from the tight lines it held, your arms feeling heavy as they scrubbed at your hair, washed off your body, conditioned and cleaned until you felt brand-new once again.

As your face tipped back up into the water, heat beating down onto you, arms snaked around your waist. You jumped a little, and Azriel, silent as always, plastered himself to your back as he climbed into the shower with you. Your hands fell to muscle-bound forearms which were sealed around your waist, squeezing lightly as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

Turning in his tight hold, his crossed arms fell to sit in the small of your back instead, your cheek pressing to his chest, arms wrapping around him equally as tightly as water now poured down your back instead. You didn’t need to speak, to say anything, the calming feel of one calloused hand running up and down your back was more than enough. His own cheek came down to rest on the top of your head, chest inflating with a deep breath underneath you, brushing the top of your head as he exhaled.

Shaking out his wings, water droplets bounced off of them, flying out and spattering across the tiles, the mirror, and the floor, before they were curling protectively around you, blocking out some of the harsh light you were squinting against. You stroked the bond within your chest appreciatively, and he nudged his nose against your temple in return. Never one for many words, but he always managed to make you feel like the centre of his world.

You lingered a while longer, it could have been minutes or hours, you lost track of time while clinging to him, before he reached out to switch off the shower behind your body. Retracting one wing at a time, he pulled back, stepping out of the cubicle and running a fluffy towel over his body, before turning to face you. Reaching out, he cleaned down one leg at a time, drying you off as you balanced on his shoulders, before he was drying his way up. Fluffy cotton that made you dream of your bed, and he wrapped it around your shoulders, guiding you to the sink.

He tugged his boxers back on, pulling wet strands of hair over your shoulders and squeezing them dry with the towel as you began to slowly apply skincare. He reached out, picking up your abandoned mug and sniffling at the contents, humming appreciatively and taking a swig. His eyes were closer to shut than open, much like your own, night hanging outside and tempting you both back into bed. Even the sky was dark tonight, clouds hanging overhead, as though even the stars were sleeping tonight.

Tugging at the damp strands and separating them out, he combed through, and rubbed oils and products through your hair as he went, until they were smooth and clean and you had one less job to do. As soon as he had finished, he was leaning in, pressing a kiss to your neck, face burying into the crook as you leaned back into him.

“Shall we go to bed now?”

“Mhm.” Muffled by a yawn you tried to cover, the words broke off into a sharp giggle as Azriel leaned down to scoop you up under your legs, one hand supporting your back as he carried you back to the bedroom. The lights went out automatically behind you, and only the golden glow of a candle almost burned out was left flickering to light you both up. He was smirking tiredly, and he nuzzled at your cheek, pressing a kiss there as he walked.

You almost made it, your arms looped around his neck to play with the curls at the base of his neck, when he stumbled. Tripping over his own feet as his feet fluttered, the two of you tumbled down onto the bed, your body splaying out across it before he landed on top of you, only his wings bracing his fall, and your laughter was mixed together as you tangled in the sheets.

“So elegant, spymaster.” He only huffed at your teasing, dragging himself up weakly and resting his cheek against your chest, the weight of him pressing you into the bed, a weight you’d missed so terribly while you were away.

“You’re home early.”

“What can I say, I missed you.” He smiled against your skin, pressing a kiss to the spot above your heart.

“You should have told me, sent a message, or something. I’d have stayed up for you.”

“I didn’t want you to stay up, I want you to rest. Gods know you need it, sometimes.” If there was one single flaw Azriel had, it was that he tended to push himself to the limits whenever constantly, with no concern for his health. You’d known him to go days without real sleep before almost collapsing, and maybe he was working on it now, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have rough patches. Your fingers dragged through his hair again. “I’m sorry I woke you, I tried to be quiet.”

“You were.” Another kiss to your collarbone, and he reached up until his face was resting within your neck. “I woke up because I felt you. I always know when you're near me, my love. I missed you, too.”

Your cheeks warmed, and it never ceased to amaze you how he could always make you feel like those first few months of your relationship, no matter how many years passed. “What were you working on?”

He jolted slightly, as though he’d fallen asleep again during that lull in the conversation, and he sniffled as he rose back to consciousness. Your hands moved from his hair, rubbing along his shoulders and his arms where they wrapped around you, a silent apology. “Hm?”

“I just asked what you were working on, that’s all.” Your whisper dropped even lower, your nails running lightly along his skin and he shuddered happily at the feeling, delicate scratches making goosebumps rise. A bloom of bliss unfurled in your chest, his hand coming up to rub over the exact spot, like he knew just where his feelings settled in your heart.

“Oh.. just some of your mission reports, so you don’t have to do as much paperwork.” His shoulders moved in what you could only assume was a shrugging motion, diluted drowsily. “I did what I could, but you still have to do all the brief ‘n’ stuff.”

Your smile was beyond your control, hidden in his hair as you pressed your face into the top of his head, sighing happily at him. As you kissed his hair, he yawned.

“Gods, I hate being away from you.” The words were carried on the happiest of tones, a kind of honey-sweet voice he only ever brought out in moments like these. Laced with tenderness and vulnerability and love, it was the kind of drug you’d become addicted to from the very first time.

“I’m home now.”

Azriel hummed, nodding. “Now stay forever.”

“What about your missions, huh? When you go again?” Azriel’s head shook this time, or as best it could with his face in your neck, and one scarred hand came out to adjust your grip on him, guiding one hand back up to his hair not-so-subtly. You did as asked, fingers tangling in messy onyx locks, rubbing at his scalp once again.

“No. No more missions. We’ll just live in this bed forever.”

“Yeah? What about food and drink?” These were the moods you loved with your mate, when the last of his walls came down, when the silly side of himself, the childish side he’d never been able to indulge in came out. Playful and loving and needy, it was your favourite part of his soul to have unlocked.

“We have that half-drunk tea in the bathroom. We’ll survive.”

You could only smile, eyes rolling fondly, and silence took over once again. Dragging himself up, he lay down by your side instead now, legs tangling with yours, a wing settling across your body as his fingers found your hips, settling over the bare skin and sliding around to sit at the top of your ass. His large hands stretched out, covering your lower back too, tugging you closer until your chests were pressed together.

You tilted your head enough to blow out the candle beside the bed, two of his fingers quickly turning your face back to him, and he leaned in, a soft kiss pressed to your lips. It was the final piece, slotting back to you as you came home, to him, to love, your lips working slowly together in a kiss that said it all.

Welcome home.

I missed you.

I love you.

A whole conversation without words as your hand sat on his cheek, as his wing settling over your body just the way you’d wanted it, and you snuggled into the feeling of him. He pulled back, and you chased closer, catching his lips once again, his sigh spanning across your skin as his face twisted. His tongue smoothed slowly over your lower lip, begging for access, pleading for more, and you let him.

Slow, sweet, sensual. Every part of your body touched some part of him outside, as his very presence filled you from your heart, inside to out. He grunted, your hand smoothing down his chest, muscles tensing under your fingers, until you were both panting, pulling away for desperate drags of breath into your lungs.

Your thumb swept over his lips, wiping away the kiss as he smiled, nudging back in until you were nose to nose.

Silence filled the room as soon as darkness did, only his steady deep breaths and the occasional rustle of his wings when he twitched to break the all-encompassing quiet.

It was you who flinched this time, when he spoke; “D’you see Cass and Nesta on your way in?”

“I did.” You couldn't help it, leaning in to place another kiss on his lips, another, starving for his love as he chuckled, squeezing your hip in warning. You were both tired, you were both almost falling asleep, and if you kept it up, neither of you would see a wink before the sun was rising. The second squeeze was a promise, a promise as his hand smoothed up your waist, thumb running under your bare breast without going further, a promise that tomorrow night you’d get everything and more. “They were playing cards.”

Your throat was raspy and cracked, and it only helped that his was equally affected - deep and rumbly - and he replied. “They’re practising for game night next week.”

“We’re still gonna’ kick their asses.”

“‘Course we are, love. We’re unstoppable.”

#azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel/you #azriel/reader #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar/you #acotar/reader #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses

2K notes · View notes

lesservillain · 6 months

Text

— i. did you get what you deserve?

summary: the beginning.

cw: season 4 canon divergent, grumpy eddie, medical talks

an: this is a wayne heavy chapter, but i doubt anyone will complain.

Ringing. A very loud ringing. That’s all Eddie can hear.

Something’s pushing on his chest.

The ringing gets louder, until it peaks and starts to fade. Muffled voices all around him, and he can feel his body shifting.

Then it shifts a lot. Ouch, that hurts.

Everything is dark. Or maybe his eyes are closed?

His eyes flutter a bit, but everything is blurry.

There’s some yelling, but it’s too garbled in his ears to make out what’s being said.

It was dark one moment, then suddenly very bright. Like a flash directly in his eye. And then again.

Everything hurts, he notices suddenly. But only because he feels it all slipping away. His body starts to float, suspended in black with a light just above him. Instinctively he swims towards it. It feels like warm sun rays on his cold, cold body.

When he hits the surface, everything starts to hurt again. His eyes open to a dimly lit room. Every part of his body feels heavy. Even moving his head is a challenge. There’s something next to him though, a presence that he can see out of his peripherals. He tries to call out, but there’s something in his mouth, his throat, obstructing his ability to talk. With all he can muster, he lets out a groan through his nose. Whatever is next to him shifts, moving quickly with a screech.

“Ed? Ed, you awake son?!”

“I can help who’s next!”

Feet shuffling beneath you, you clutch your handbag close as you move through the bodies of your classmates. A handsome man about your age with a million dollar smile sits on the other side of the table. He looks at you expectantly as you take the hint, fumbling in your bag for your student ID.

“Sorry,” you mumble as he gives the card once over. He says your name and laughs when you respond with a yes?

“Thank you for coming,” he beams, “We’re happy to see so many people volunteering to help out.” He clicks his pen and copies your name down on a paper. You look him over as he does this. Thick, dark hair styled perfectly, with long lashes to match. His name is Sam, per the Hello my name is sticker on his shirt. He’s cute, you think.

“Yeah,” your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth so it comes out weird. After licking your lips, you continue. “Our teacher told us we could get extra credit. I guess everyone could use it after our last test.”

Nursing school is hard. Even harder when you don’t know anyone in your class. A lot of the girls all went to the surrounding high schools and knew at least one other person in one of their classes. But that wasn’t the case for you.

“I’ve heard some of those classes you all take are no joke,” he laughs, flipping through a stack of papers next to him.”

“I certainly wasn’t laughing.”

He stops his flipping, looking up at you through those thick lashes, his eyes creased at the corners from his smile.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

The question catches you off guard. Was it that obvious?”

“N-no, I’m from up north.” You gesture upward, pointing above you.

“Like Canada?”

Now you’re smiling, “Try Anderson.”

“Oh, jeez,” he shakes his head, “That’s hardly north.”

“More north than here.”

“You got me there.”

He pulls a small stack from his pile, sliding it across the table until it’s in front of you. You look down at it, immediately noticing that a large portion of the top page is blacked out by sharpie. Flipping it over, you see that the second page is pretty much the same, barely any information to be gathered at all from this “info” sheet.

“You look confused,” Sam says in a sarcastic tone.

“Um, just a little,” you sass him back, looking at him with a silent plea for answers.

“Okay, so, this guy here,” he points to the top of the page, finger just above the name Eddie Munson. “He’s not a very…popular guy around this area. I’ve been trying to get someone to take him as their case all morning and everyone’s turned him down.”

Your head tilts, eyes skimming over the paper as he talks. Under his name is an address in Hawkins, but most everything else is blacked out, even his age.

Still, even with the lack of knowledge you’ve hardly ever been one to turn someone down.

“Okay,” you say with a nod.

“Okay?” Sam parrots back, shifting forward excitedly in his seat.

“Yes, I’ll take him.”

“That’s great!”

He grabs his pen and writes your name next to Mr.Munson’s on the paper, before sliding it into a white folder.

Sam pauses for a moment, a hand running through his hair as he looks around. “Hold on,” he says as he stands up, “let me find my lead and I’ll try and get you some more information on him.” He looks into your eyes, then up and down at you. Was he checking you out? Ugh, why did you have to be in your uniform right now?

You stand awkwardly as he leaves, taking the time to flatten the wrinkles in your dress and adjust your flossie. This school was one the only schools who hadn’t gotten with the times, still mandating the Nightingale uniform over scrubs for any female students.

“Okay, so,” Sam tucks some papers into a red folder, “I wasn’t able to get anything too specific to tell you. I guess there’s a lot of hush hush going on with him right now. But, my lead did tell me I could give you this care packet. It’s all stuff you should know how to do, but it’ll give you a hint on what kind of care he’s going to need.”

You take the folder from him, opening it up to peak inside, only for him to place another paper with a card attached on top.

“That paper is for the organization itself. You just have to have the patient or guardian sign when you go over there as proof to get your credit. Oh and,” he points to the card,” that’s my information. Feel free to call me if you, uh, have any questions.”

Suddenly, someone bumps into you. You close the folder quickly and turn around with wide eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” your classmate, Rhonda, apologizes with a wave of her hands as she keeps walking down the table. You breathe in, giving her a nod of acknowledgment before looking at Sam again.

“Okay, um, thank you for everything,” you say, backing up from the table and making your exit. He calls out to you, but your ears are already starting to ring before you can even get to the double doors.

Your feet carry you out of the building and into the hot August air. Sweat immediately beads at your hairline under the unforgiving sun, a most brutal summer that feels like it’s never going to end.

You make a beeline for the parking lot, fumbling with your keys as you unlock your car and immediately begin rolling your windows down to try and let the non-existent breeze cool down your interior. Reaching inside you grab your pack of smokes and lighter from your middle console, lighting one up and feeling immediate relief as the smoke fills your lungs.

The drive to your friend's house is quiet other than the low tune of the radio playing. Tonya’s car isn’t in the driveway, and you say a silent thanks under your breath to have some time alone. You love Tonya, she’s been with you through everything, but you need some time to mentally decompress before dealing with her big personality.

After a quick shower and a bit of rummaging through the fridge for something quick to eat, you sit at the dining room table and start going through the red folder Sam gave to you. The top paper with the signature spots had a section on the top that you hadn’t noticed before where some information had been filled out.

“The patient would like to be seen at…” You see a few time slots printed on the paper starting from 8 am ranging all the way to 5pm, the ladder being the time circled. You suddenly realize Sam never asked you what your availability was, or much of anything really. Not that you asked him anything either.

Five pm was pretty late in the day, and as you kept reading, you noticed that the next section asking for “frequency of visits” had Monday through Friday circled.

This guy wants to be seen every day? You think to yourself. Maybe he doesn’t have anyone to cook for him or something.

Going through the different directional packets doesn’t make you feel much better. Information on post op care, wound disinfection, dressing changes--things you’ve done before, but not by yourself, and certainly not in someone’s home.

Why do you do this to yourself?

The drive to Hawkins isn’t terrible. The “Welcome to Hell” didn’t do anything to settle your nerves, but you persisted.

A lot of closed roads lead you to take some detours, but you’d still be able to see how badly damaged the town was after the earthquake hit them. Businesses, houses, streets, all completely ruined by the way the ground split the town in fours.

You mustered up the courage to ask one of your classmates from here about what happened, and she told you that some serial killer tried to destroy the town by sacrificing teens to the devil. “Oh, okay,” was all you could give as a response. It was hard to tell if she was fucking with you or not, so you just decided to go and see Sam instead.

That turned out to not be a fruitful endeavor either. He seemed to dance around your questions, dodging them by asking you about yourself instead. You left with none of your questions answered other than a start date for your visitations.

The start day is today, a blazing hot Monday. You didn’t have time to change out of your uniform since your professor asked you to stay over to help clean up after labs, clock getting closer and closer to 5pm as you drive down this woodsy road.

A mailbox appears ahead with numbers that match the address given to you. You slow down and turn onto the gravel path, expecting to see a house as you do. Instead the drive continues into the woods, the thick lining of the surrounding trees blocking you from seeing past the brush even with full sun. The gravel crunches under your tires as you keep going down the path, following it up a slight incline before reaching a clearing.

In the center of the clearing is a one story ranch style house, half brick and half light blue paneling. It has a covered front porch, bare except for a small table and a single chair, an overflowing ashtray dead in the center. Well that’ll be good for you.

The house looked brand new, and completely out of place in the middle of the woods. It was almost creepy in the way it contrasts against the trees and dirt, no grass to be found.

That's what it is, you realize. This house feels void of life.

You park your car next to an old gray pick up truck and sit there for a moment. Maybe you could smoke one more cigarette before going in. But what if they heard you coming and wonder why you’re taking so long?

“Fuck it,” you say to yourself, grabbing your supply bag and pushing open the car door.

You keep your head down, watching the dirt stick to your black uniform shoes as you cross the yard to the front porch. You knock on the door, wiping your feet on the welcome mat as best as you could. A pair of dirty work boots sits just outside the door.

There’s movement behind the door that makes your head snap up, taking in a deep breath as you wait for the door to open. A quiet pause is interrupted by the sounds of multiple locks being undone and the door pulling open just enough to make the chain lock taught.

An older gentleman’s wrinkled face makes its appearance in the crack of the door, looking at you up and down. “Can I help you?” He has a slight southern drawl, voice a bit horse as if he had just woken up.

“Y-yes,” you squak, “um, are you Mr.Munson?”

His eye narrows and you see his arm shift behind the wall.

“Depends on who's askin.”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m here volunteering with Visiting Angels? I was-“

He cuts you off with your name, asking it as a confirmation of who you are. You nod, “Yes, that’s me!” He looks you up and down. He grunts, shifting a bit until the sound of something hitting the ground slightly catches your attention.

The door closes slightly, and with a click opens fully to reveal the older man in his entirety, standing aside enough for you to walk in, but his eyes scan the area behind you suspiciously.

“Come on in,” he says, closing the door behind you, “I honestly didn’t think anyone was gonna come.”

“Well, I don’t mind the drive,” you say with a tight smile. Mr.Munson stands in place as you let your eyes wander over the house. The smell of fresh paint filled your nostrils, and the new furniture and bare walls gave you the same creepy feeling as the outside of the house. As your eyes reach the front door, you suppress a physical reaction to the large shotgun leaning against the wall next to it.

A deep sigh from the man has you turning to face him, his rough hand running over his face to the back of his head. “You don’t have any clue, do you?”

“I’m sorry?” You’re having a hard time hiding the nerves that are bubbling up in your chest, body entering fight or flight mode.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, walking away from you and plopping down in one of the recliners. He gestures to the couch, “Have a seat, I’ll try and explain.”

You hesitate. You’re right by the door, you don’t have to do this. This guy doesn’t seem like he needs any help anyway. Sam’s words about him not being very popular in this area come to the forefront of your mind and now your head is swirling with possibilities as to why.

A small ringing from another part of the couch pulls you from your spiral.

“Shit, hold on a second,” the man says as he rises back to his feet, “let me go see what he wants and I’ll be right back.” He walks past you and down the hall, leaving you by yourself.

This is it. Just turn around now and leave.

“Whatcha need, Ed?”

Your ears perk up. Was the man you were talking to not who you came here for? Maybe it’s his dad, and the man you’re talking to is just Eddie’s tired son who needs help taking care of him. But why would he call his own dad Ed? Maybe it’s an uncle or a family friend? He did say he was a Munson…

“Okay, let me whip something up for ya.”

The mystery Munson walks back down the hall, slowing down enough to talk as he walks by. “The boy’s hungry, can we talk in the kitchen while I heat him up somethin?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you say after a moment, following behind him into a large dining room/kitchen area. There’s a huge table in the center of the dining area that’s covered with boxes labeled with things like “dishes,” “salvaged photos,” “salvaged misc.” It all the sudden clicks for you.

“So, I’m not sure what all they told you,” the man starts, speaking with his back turned as he pulls some things from the fridge.

“I was given a name and an andress,” you say almost playfully, letting some of the tension leave your body.

“Should’a known,” he says, looking over his shoulder at you with a smile and a roll of his eyes. “I think its for legal purposes, they can't disclose much about my nephew or something like that. But, uh,” he nods his head to one of the bar chairs at the counter between the two of you, “I can.”

And so he did. He told you about how a murderer had escaped from prison and snuck back to Hawkins, murdering teens and attempting to pin it on his nephew. The killer had killed a girl in their old trailer, right in front of Eddie, almost killing him, too.

But, since no one had realized that the killer escaped, the whole town had believed it was Eddie the whole time. Four teens were killed, almost 5, and Eddie was brutally tortured before his friends were able to save him.

“Oh, my god,” you gasp with a hand over your mouth.

“I know,” the man, Wayne, says as he scoops the macaroni and cheese into a bowl. He opens a drawer and pulls out a spoon with a large, grippy handle that you recognized from your nurse shadowing. They’re normally used for people who’ve had strokes or other hand mobility issues. He shoves the spoon into the bowl and walks around the counter.

“I guess I’ve talked about him enough, might as well meet him for yourself.”

You slid out of your seat and follow Wayne down the hall to the very end. He gives the door a knock before opening it with a quick “coming in!”

Stepping in behind him, you see a large, mostly empty room with more new looking furniture and a few boxes in various places. In the center against the wall was a hospital bed with a large pull bar dangling above it. You were expecting to see someone laying in the bed, but were met with the sight of a lump of blankets and comforters instead.

“Ed, food’s ready boy,” Wayne says as he pulls a bedside table from against the wall to the bed. “Got someone here for you to meet, too.”

The lump on the bed moves a bit, and for a brief moment you see a set of eyes and a few wild curls peek from under the covers. But, just as quickly as you see them, they’re hidden once again.

“Ed—“

“No,” his muffled, strained voice calls from under the covers.

“Boy, don’t do this. You know I can’t leave you alone when I go—“

“No!” The voice squeaks, followed by a harsh cough. Wayne sighs, setting the bowl down softly.

“Let me get him set up and I’ll, uh, meet you back out in the living room.”

“Oh, okay,” you say quickly, backing out of the room and closing the door behind you. You’re barely down the hall when you can hear some strained yelling coming from the last room at the end of the hall.

You settle back in the kitchen where you can’t hear the conversation happening between the two men. You thought about dark and dull eyes that looked at you briefly, how even with only that small glance of him, Eddie looked tired. Just about as tired as his uncle, who rounded the corner a few minutes later.

“I’m so sorry about him, he’s just a little weary about strangers,” the older man says walking over to the phone sitting on the wall, picking it up and dialing.

“It’s okay, I can understand that.” You give him a small smile, which he tries to return, but is distracted as whoever he’s calling picks up on their end.

“Hey, Chief, it’s Wayne—sorry, yeah, Jim. Listen, Ed’s new caretaker is here, but he’s throwing a bit of a fit about ‘er. Think you’d be able to come and sit with him f’r the night until we can try again tomorrow?”

Disappointment washes over you. Not that you weren’t used to rejection, but you’d hardly been able to even give a first impression. Maybe your uniform put him off? Gotta start keeping clothes in the car to change into from now on…

The phone clings as Wayne hangs it up, body relaxing as a slow breath leaves him. He looks over to you, rather looking through you for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Little miss, can I be frank with you?”

“It’s the uniform isn’t it?”

Wayne barks out a laugh, and you chuckle even though your inquiry was serious. “No, no--well, maybe a little.”

“I knew it,” you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to wear it when you’re here. S’long as you’re decent I don’t really care what you wear here to be honest. But, I did want to talk to you more about what we’re actually needing here.”

You look up at him, head tilting to the side in confusion. Several questions sit on the tip of your tongue, but you chose to just nod for him to continue.

“Okay. So, uh, I’ve been off work this whole time. Since March. I’ve been with the plant for a long time and my boss’s took a lotta pity on me with everything that’s going on. But…well that time is running out, and I can’t rely on anyone else to keep these bills paid, ya know?”

“Yes, yeah, I totally get that. Broke college kid here.”

“Right,” he chuckles. “So, I gotta go back to work. Tonight, actually, and, uh, I know this is short notice, but I need someone to stay here…while I’m at work.”

Your eyes go wide. “Oh, you wanted me to be, like, an overnight caretaker?”

“Yeah, I just, ya see with everything I told you about what happened, I couldn’t get anyone to come out and take care of him. Either they couldn’t pass a background check or once they realized who he was…So the Visiting Angel’s place was my last ditch effort to try and get someone in here. They said that it would be free if we went through the volunteer program, and that even though y’all are students that you’d still be able to help--But I understand if you can’t. You probably got a job and a family and a boyfrie--”

“I’ll do it.” The words fly out of your mouth without much thinking. But this poor man in front of you has been through hell with his nephew and how can you say no to him?

“Wait, really?” It’s his turn for his eyes to bug out, hardly able to believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t mind. What time do you need me to be here?”

Wayne’s face softens, head hanging low like he still can’t wrap his head around your words. “Well, uh,” he starts, “I gotta leave here ‘round 6:30 and I work til about 5 am give or take depending on the night crew. If you'd be here about 6 or quarter after, that would be just fine. I don’t know how to cook much, but I could try and whip ya up something when I make Ed’s dinner, and you could work on yer school or watch tv or whatever girls your age like to do.”

“I’m plenty content to just work on school or watch tv,” you assure him.

“Good, good,” he says with a nod, turning to look into the living room. “We don’t got a bed in the third bedroom yet, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch until I can find the time to go and get one. Am I gonna have’ta talk to your parents or anything about why you’re not coming home during the week or anything?”

“What? Oh, no, no,” you wave your hands at his question, “Not unless you know how to talk to the dead.”

“Ah, shit, sorry,” Wayne cringes, hand running through his barely there hair.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” you say as you stand from your chair, “I will have to figure out how to tell my roommate. I don’t think she would like it if I told her that I was staying the night with a guy who was acquitted for murder.”

Oops. You bite your tongue between your teeth, wishing you could take the last bit of that sentence back. But Wayne’s laugh makes you feel less bad.

“Trust me, if I was in your roommates shoes I wouldn’t be too happy either.”

The ring of Eddie’s bell echoes down the hall again, pulling both of your attention to the sound.

“Better let me go myself. Don’t want to upset him again tonight. Why don’t you go head and head home and in the meantime I’ll talk to him. Try again tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“Good,” Wayne says, walking you to the door. He lets you out with a goodbye, the closing of the front door being followed by the sounds of locks being put back in their place.

The drive home was quiet, but your head was swirling with thoughts. Your brain goes back and forth on the situation you just got yourself into.

Instead of focusing on the negatives, you decide to make a list in your mind of things you’d need to bring with you to stay the night; a toothbrush, deodorant, your own pillow and blanket—would they let you take a shower there? Hopefully so, since some days you’re going to have to come over straight from work or class. So add shampoo and conditioner. Probably body wash, too. You doubt that two men living together use anything other than head and shoulders.

You cringe when you think about using feminine products while there. Maybe you’d just keep them in your bag and grab them as you need them. It wouldn’t hurt to bring an extra towel in case you need to put it under you while you sleep.

Going through your mental checklist helps make the drive go by. Before you know it, you’re turning onto your street, where, surprise, surprise, Tonya’s boyfriend is once again parked in your spot in the driveway. You park on the street with a huff, thinking of all the things you want to say, but know you ultimately wont, not being one for confrontation.

“Hey, girl,” Tonya calls out from the couch. The smell of delicious food filling the whole house, so you know Charles must be cooking. “Go get a plate, Charlie just finished cooking.”

“I’m good, I grabbed something while I was out.” A lie, but you’d rather retreat to your room until Charles left. You’ve never been a fan of him and his pompous, know it all attitude. It was just better if you kept your interactions with him to a minimum rather than having to pretend he doesn’t get on your nerves.

It was a few hours later, nearing 10 pm when you finally heard Tonya shut the front door, signaling that it was safe to leave. She was cleaning up Charle’s mess in the kitchen when you walked out from your room.

“Hey,” you said quietly, keeping a comment about cleaning up after a child to yourself.

“I was wondering when you were going to come out,” she teases. “Thought I was gonna have to slip you a plate under your door.”

“Ha, ha,” you deadpan, opening the fridge to pull out leftovers from the weekend.

“So why’d you come home so late today?”

The calendar with both of your schedules scribbled in stared you in the face as you closed the refrigerator door. You weren’t a very social person, usually just coming straight home from school or work. And even though Tonya was a very chill person 99% of the time, that wasn’t the case when it came to you.

“I, uh…” you stuttered. You had the whole drive home and you forgot to think about what you’d tell her. If she knew the truth, she’d flip her lid and talk you out of it. You could try to lie, but there’s no way she’d believe you if you told her you were staying with a new guy that you’d never talked about or that you were helping out another friend she knows you don’t have.

“I had a job interview!” It was the only sensible thing you could think of that may be somewhat convincing to her. “For a…nursing home. As a nurse's assistant.”

“Woah, really?” Tonya sets her cup on the counter, jaw dropped in excitement. “Omg, okay, how did it go? Are they going to have you do another interview? Details, girl, details!”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, putting out your hands to keep her from shaking you. You wrack your brain, trying to come up with a story on the spot. “It’s a newer nursing home…very small. Um, I would be able to do some of my nursing stuff under supervision of a nurse. And…it’s overnights—“

“Hold on, overnights?” Tonya interruptus, “Girl, that’s a lot with your school schedule.”

“Oh, um, I know, but its super casual and I can sleep in the afternoon when I get out of class or after work—“

“Wait, you’re not quitting CoffeeHouse?”

Shit.

“Ah, about that, um, I’m…still going to try and work there, just in case. Like if this doesn’t work out.”

Tonya eyes you, making your hands feel sweaty under her scrutinizing gaze. “I don’t understand,” she states with a concerned tone.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you need to have two jobs? You don’t pay rent, Charlie cooks for all of us a couple times a week. I take care of the bills—“

“I feel guilty,” you blurt out, feeling actually guilty when you see her face contort with sadness.

“No, babes, I told you that I didn’t want your money. I want you to focus on something for you for once.”

“This is for me though. It’s a chance to actually get a more authentic experience in my field, and — and I can’t just take and take from you forever.”

Tonya lunges forward, enveloping you in her arms. “Why noooooot,” she wines, fake crying into your shoulder, “just let me take care you, baby giiiiiirl.”

“Stooooooooop,” you cry back, “I’m an independent woman who don’t need no man, remember? I believe you’re the one who told me that.”

“Right, no man. But you do need me!” She pulls back flashing her picture perfect smile at you that has had guys folding for her since middle school.

“You’re right,” you sigh in faux defeat, “if only I was enough for you…”

“Oh my gooooood, just get over your hang ups and learn to love him. He’s really not that bad.”

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“Not like you have room to talk.”

You gasp, putting on a dramatic display at her poking at your taste in men.

“Don’t even try it,” she flicks your forehead. “When you find a guy that’s not totally batshit, then come talk to me.”

“I can’t help that I attract the crazies.”

After a few more white lies and half truths, the conversation shifts to other topics, including that of a retreat that Charles is planning for the two of them for their one year anniversary. Eventually you wind down and head to your room, making sure to check the locks on the door and windows on the way.

thank you for reading.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson slow burn #disabled!eddie munson #eddie lives #eddie munson st4 #canon divergent #grumpy!eddie munson x sunshine!reader #eddie munson x nurse!reader

292 notes · View notes

buckys-metal-arm · 2 months

Text

Not Alone

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: Bucky is refusing to come to terms with everything that’s happened following the fight with Thanos, and you know that the walls he’s carefully built up around his emotions are going to come crashing down one day. So what happens when they finally do?

Warnings: Angstyyyyy, Bucky is SAD, takes place somewhere between that and FATWS but idk where, crying, hurt/comfort, I don’t know if it’s an inherently “happy” ending per say, but it's a comforting one I think, some mentions of bad mental health, NOT Endgame!Steve Friendly (just like me)

A/N: I am sorry for this

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

Bucky had been struggling, you knew it.

You’d been by his side for long enough to know when he was trapped in his own mind

But this was different

Usually, you could at least get him to tell you what was wrong

But ever since the fight with Thanos he’d avoided talking about what was wrong

You could hardly blame him, it had been a difficult last few months

In the fallout of his return from spending 5 years as a dust pile and the subsequent fight, you had held Bucky’s hand through Tony’s funeral, being placed in a holding cell by the US Government, his pardon hearing, moving back to Brooklyn, starting his court-mandated therapy, and trying to acclimate to the modern world, and fully come to terms with the pain and torture HYDRA had inflicted him for decades.

And then of course there had been Steve.

You knew Bucky was upset and hurt over his best friend leaving him, and everyone else he had grown close to, behind to be with Peggy.

And you could hardly blame him.

Suffice to say, Bucky had been through few months alone, and you knew it had been hard on him

But whenever you had tried to ask him about it he simply smiled and said “I’m fine, Doll. I’m okay.”

But you couldn’t help but notice that it didn’t reach his eyes.

He was trying so hard to be strong, to push down how he was feeling, but you saw the seams starting to unravel

All the pain he’d been feeling for months finally came to a head late one night

You two were doing dishes after dinner, you were washing and he was drying

Occasionally, Bucky would bump his hip against yours, making you smile and gently splash water at him, making him laugh

You and your boyfriend loved this, just enjoying each other’s presence with the two of you being giant dorks together

Everything was good, you two were having fun

Until Bucky went to dodge one of your splashes and lost his grip on the glass he was drying.

The glass shattered on the floor below, and he immediately went tense.

“Oh God, Bucky!” You grabbed his flesh hand gently, checking for injury, “are you okay?”

He didn’t reply, but looked down at you touching his hand

“I don’t see any injuries. You’re alright, Sweetheart. I’m gonna clean up the glass, okay?” You pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek, but he didn’t look up.

Cleaning up the shattered glass went quickly, but when you finished you noticed Bucky was staring blankly at the floor where you’d cleaned, his blue eyes misty

“Bucky?” You cupped his face, but he still wouldn’t look at you, “Talk to me Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

“N-nothing,” his voice was soft, like he was trying his hardest to keep it from wavering, “I’m fine, Doll.”

“If you can look me in the eyes and say that, I’ll believe you.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” it was almost a chant as he slowly lifted his head, “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m–”

As soon as Bucky looked you in the face he burst into sobs, falling to his knees in front of you.

It tore a hole in your chest.

“Oh…” you knelt down in front of him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close, cradling his head against your shoulder, “oh Baby, oh, Bucky…”

He buried his face in your neck as you rocked him from side to side, your fingers carding through his hair, “shhhh, it’s alright, let it out, Baby Boy, let it all out…”

“H-He was my best friend,” Bucky whimpered, “h-he was my best friend, and he…he j-just fucking left me here–!”

“Oh, Baby, I know,” you kissed his temple, “I know. I’m so sorry, Sweet Boy…”

You held him tighter as he dissolved into sobs again.It broke your heart.

You knew that this was good for him, that Bucky had been fighting this for so long

He needed the release, the catharsis, but that didn’t mean it didn’t fill your broken heart with anger.

Anger at Steve for leaving the man in your arms behind in a world he didn’t understand, at the Government agents that treated him like a criminal for things that he had been forced to do when he had no control over his mind and body, at anyone who had ever caused this kind, sweet, gentle, loving man harm and left him unable to feel his emotions properly until he reached his absolute breaking point

When Bucky calmed down again you suggested moving to the couch

“It’ll be a lot more comfortable than the floor, Baby,” you said, gently taking his hand in yours and leading him to the living room

Once you two were seated you wrapped him in your arms again, keeping him close and rocking him.

“Talk to me, Baby, please,” you cupped his face, thumbing away his tears, “tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“It’s… I wasn’t worth it.” Bucky said in a quiet, broken voice, “I told Steve I wasn’t, back when he… when we were on our way to Siberia. He tried to tell me that I was, and being with you, in Wakanda, when I was finally free I started to think that maybe he was right, maybe I was worth saving. That I was deserving of some kind of peace. But then Steve–”

His voice cracked, and you gave him a comforting hug.

“I just keep thinking that if I was really worth what you all went through for me then he– he wouldn’t have left me here alone."

Tears flowed freely again, and you hugged him tightly to you, pressing comforting kisses to his temple

“Shhhhh, Baby Boy, it’s alright,” you whispered, “it’s gonna be alright…”

Bucky shook his head and buried his face further into your neck

“I just… it makes it hard, y’know?” You nodded and kissed his forehead, he took a deep breath and added, “I’m scared. I keep thinking that one day I’m gonna wake up and you’re not gonna be there. T-that you’re gonna realize the same thing he did. That I’m not worth all of this.”

“Oh… Oh no, oh, Bucky…” You rubbed his back, pressing kisses to the top of his head, “oh, Honey…”

You cradled his head against your chest, running your fingers through his hair and hushing him, rocking him from side to side.

Once he’d calmed down slightly you took his face in both hands, stroking his stubbly cheeks.

“Baby? Can you look at me, please?” His sad blue eyes met yours, and you gently wiped the tears from them.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry Bucky. I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through, Baby. And I’m especially sorry that you were made to think like that.”

Bucky looked you in the eyes. No one had ever said that to him before.

“and speaking as someone who was involved in all of that trouble? You were absolutely worth it. Every minute of it. The two years Sam, Steve, and I spent looking for you, every fight, every bit of time spent on the run, every moment spent waiting for Shuri to okay letting you out of the ice in Wakanda. I would go through every second of it again if it meant that you got to be free, Sweet Boy. Even if you weren’t the man I love, even if you weren’t Steve’s best friend, even if you were just some guy I had no attachment to, I would fight just as hard if it meant you got to be safe and free from those monsters. Because you didn’t deserve HYDRA’s abuse, and you didn’t deserve to be punished for things you couldn’t control.”

He rested his hands over yours, and you pressed your forehead against yours

“I know it’s hard to trust anyone after what Steve did, I know. But I would never, ever leave you alone. I’m with you for the long haul, Sweetheart. You’ll always be worth it in my eyes."

His eyes searched your face, looking for any sign that it wasn’t true, and found nothing but genuine love and care. You gave him a soft sad smile.

“I’ll be here, right by your side, as long as you want me, Baby,” you kissed the tip of his nose, “you aren’t alone anymore, Buck. You’ll never be alone again.”

Bucky dissolved into tears in your arms again

“I-I’m sorry,” he cried over and over into your shoulder, embarrassed at his carrying on, “‘m sorry I keep cryin’...”

“Shhhhh….” you continued rocking him and rubbing his back, “you don’t have to apologize for expressing your emotions, Sweetheart. You’re allowed to feel bad. You’re allowed to let it out. I’ll be here for you.”

You held Bucky until he calmed down, and he let you lead him into the bathroom to clean his face with a cool cloth, not wanting the salt from his tears to irritate his skin, and showering him with affection and love.

When you two finally laid down to sleep that night you held the man you loved as close as humanly possible, pressing little kisses to his hairline and rubbing his back

Bucky nestled into your chest, listening to your heartbeat and relishing the feeling of skin-to-skin contact

“Get some sleep, Baby Boy,” you whispered, “I’ll always be here when you wake up. I love you so much, my Darling.”

Bucky looked up at you, a small but genuine smile on his face.

The first you had seen in the months since Thanos

“I love you too.” he kissed your lips, “goodnight, Doll.”

As Bucky drifted off in your arms, he felt better.

Lighter.

Better than he had in months.

He wasn’t cured, he knew that.

The demons of his past still haunted him, still clawed at the edges of his mind and whispered that he wasn’t worth the pain

But knowing that he wasn’t alone, that you would stay by him and support him through even his darkest days?

That you wouldn’t leave no matter what?

Maybe he could finally start to heal

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #buckybarnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes angst #hurt/comfort #bucky barnes headcanon

113 notes · View notes

deandoesthingstome · 2 years

Text

AU where Syverson becomes a dog trainer

Word Count: 1091

Warnings: smut of the cerebral and physical variety; kissing, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, cuddling, idk it’s been so long I don’t know how to do this anymore; you tell me

I don’t own Captain Syverson or Sandcastle but I do own these words and I do not give any permission to copy or repost them. I would absolutely love it if you liked or commented or reblogged. Stuff of life right there.

Written in a mid-week wine haze and completely un-beta’d. So I own the mistakes, too, is what I’m saying. But you can be me for a while if you want.

Sometimes when I'm walking my crazy-ass rescue pit in the woods, I imagine coming across dog trainer!Sy and Aika.

Aika is off-leash, which of course she is; Sy trusts her recall unconditionally.

When he hears my panicked calls for Ginger to return and stop straining against the lead, Sy immediately clasps a leash on the heavy D-ring of the neon green collar around the German Shepherd's neck.

He stands patient and calm about 10 yards away while I spew profuse apologies in his direction and gentle curses at my dog.

"She's a rescue. I'm so sorry. She really doesn't like other dogs. Ginger, sit!"

"She's a spitfire for sure, but she wants to say hi. She just needs to learn some manners."

When I tell him I've been watching training videos on Instagram, he can barely contain the smirk that forms beneath his rugged beard as he drops his head to the side and gives a slow shake.

He takes note once I finally have G under some semblance of control and asks if I've tried an in-person trainer yet.

I tell him I hadn't yet; that I'd adopted a rescue before who had a much easier disposition and I hadn't thought I would have so much trouble with a second one; that it'd only been a month and I was honestly regretting the decision to adopt again.

He pulls a small white card out of the pocket of his tan camo cargo pants and lets me know he's gonna just drop it on this tree stump here and back away with Aika in the opposite direction.

He tells me his name and says maybe the girls can meet again someday and I notice his biceps flex in his maybe just too small tee as he tugs Aika’s leash.

When he goes, I wipe the sweat of frustration off my face and pick up the card from the stump.

I see the nickname he failed to mention underneath the name K9 Tactics and see he's a certified trainer and I just want to die from embarrassment because this guy with the close shaved head and beefy thighs apparent in his pants is hot as all fuck and there is no way in hell I would ever summon enough courage to put my shortcomings on further display in front of him for any length of time ever again.

But I hear him holler back "Don't overthink it. First session's free. She’s got promise!"

And, like, imagine my surprise when he admits day one while we're walking G down the path near my apartment that I'm technically his first client since he made the choice to start this side gig after retiring from the Special Forces.

He's managed to calm her down after their frenetic meeting and hooked her up to the most convoluted convertible leash I'd ever seen.

We were stopping every so often while he waited for her to step back from her pulling before we moved forward and he praised her with a happy Yes every time she did.

I had a hard time concentrating on everything Sy said while I tried to wish the ache of those yesses away, but I did catch that he was finishing up a few business courses before stepping into an executive position at a new protection company forming in the area.

By the time Ginger was able to heel without hesitation, Sy had already asked me out on two dates and kissed me so passionately at the end of the second after walking me to my door that I was left reeling when he stepped back and I could not fathom for the life of me how I let him go home that night.

We waited until the girls met, G circling in and out trying so hard to approach Aika calmly and say hello, before we ended the night in bed together.

It was messy and hesitant and a little uncomfortable until we both laughed and admitted we were just thinking it might be better to kennel the girls in separate rooms for the night so they don't trip out that the bedroom door is closed for the first time in forever and destroy the living room while Sy was destroying me.

He pounced immediately upon entering the room after securing G and Aika, tossing me to the bed and diving right between the sprawl of my legs.

I practically melted into mush when he raised his eyes to me and mouthed a silent "okay?" and it didn’t take long after he latched his lips around my cunt and dug his tongue deep and pressed it into my clit with such fervor for me to come crying out his name.

Through my blissful haze, I caught him swipe a paw across his beard before he crawled up over me and dipped his head to catch my lip between his teeth before sucking a kiss and tipping his tongue into my mouth.

“Was that okay?”

I gasped in disbelief and could think of only one way to express just how okay it was besides asking him to do it again which would have been totally selfish of me but dontchu think I didn’t think it.

I asked him if he preferred standing or laying down and I was so grateful his decision allowed me to wrap my hands around his legs while I sank to my elbows and knees on the bed before him, taking his hefty cock as deep as I could.

It allowed him to bend over and stretch a hand down my back, sweeping over my ass and back between my legs, teasing out the slick and fingering me to another orgasm while he came down my throat with a growl.

He laid me back gently, slipping in beside me and wrapping an arm behind my shoulder to draw me close, placing a kiss on my forehead before turning my chin and capturing my mouth with his.

I could feel his hand trace the curves of my body while his tongue assaulted my mouth and lips traced my neck and I could tell exactly why when he paused because I heard Ginger thrashing in her cage, too.

“You wanna wait ‘er out?”

I honestly didn’t know what the right thing to do was but I could tell Sy was going to let me do whatever I wanted in the moment and in the moment I knew there was no way I could ever want to let this man go.

A/N: I’ve been dreaming of this Sy for a while now, on just about every woods walk with my dog since I first read Even If You Don’t Mean It by @sillyrabbit81 and I knew it was never gonna be enough for a full series or anything but I just really needed to get it out. And I hope it’s okay I tagged you, Rabbit, and you, everyone else I’m about to tag. I’ll likely never post another Sy story again, but if I did and you don’t want a tag, please please please just let me know. I don’t mean to overstep. @fvckinghenrycavill @mayloma @winter2112rose @daydreaming-in-letters @just-chirpin

Edit: I DID post another Sy story, complete with you and Ginger and Aika. Wake Up Call

#captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson smut #syverson #syverson x reader #syverson smut #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #syverson fanfiction #syverson fanfic #sand castle fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #dog trainer au #dog trainer!sy #mine

444 notes · View notes

bucketsofmonsters · 2 years

Note

Happy birthday! I hope you have a wonderful day full of celebrations!!! On my twenty first a gaggle of my friends and I went to karaoke bar and the bar tender didn’t even ask for my ID lol

If you’re still taking requests could I put one in for something sickingly sappy involving a mer and a female reader? Maybe with a little spice if it fits…

Thank you! That's so funny, I'll have to see if I get carded the first time I go out. I’m always taking requests so no need to worry about that!! Original requests normally take me longer but I wanted to get this one out on time so it’s a little short. No smut but imo it’s pretty fluffy and sappy, hope you like it!!

Update from over a year later, this has become a series if you’d like to go read it :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

word count: 2k

The rain poured down on your face and you couldn’t tell what was rain water and what was water splashing over the side of the ship from the ocean because of the rocky seas. Two of the sailors were holding onto your arms, dragging you closer and closer to the edge of the ship.

“This is your own fault,” one of them yelled over the storm.

“Please,” you called out, “Please let me stay, I’m sorry.”

“You should have thought of that before you stowed away.

You tried to run, although you weren’t sure where you could go, but their grips were too strong.

It was hard to know exactly what was happening. The waves were roaring and you could hardly see or hear anything.

One second your feet were planted firmly on the ever shifting deck of the ship and the next you were underwater. If you thought gathering your bearings was hard on the ship, it was impossible down here. Despite knowing it must be nearby, you had no idea where the ship could be. You fought to stay afloat, the waves forcing you under over and over again.

Something yanked at your foot and you were pulled under the waves, your treading water rendered useless and your scream drowned out by the ocean that was now surrounding you.

As you opened your eyes, you realized it was paradoxically calmer under the water. Your eyes strung from the salt but down here there was no rain. The rockiest part was near the surface but you weren’t anywhere near there, instead finding yourself many feet below the surface.

When you opened your eyes you’d expected to see a shark or some other ocean creature. Instead, you found a face staring back at yours. He looked curious, taking you in as you stared dumbfounded back at him.

Before you had a chance to really process what you were seeing, the man who’d just pulled you under the waves leaned forwards and kissed you. It wasn’t a long kiss, ending before you even realized it began.

He pulled away and your lungs began to burn, pleading for oxygen. You tried to swim up for air but he grabbed your arm and yanked you down again. Then you caught a glimpse of something below him, the limited light reflecting off of a tail

You gasped in water, your lungs unable to hold out any longer. Instead of choking on the ocean water filling your chest, you felt like you were gasping in air. You knew it was water, the texture was different than the air was, but as you heaved in water, you discovered you could breathe.

He was smirking at you, the smugness evident in his face.

He let go of your arm, having proved his point and you stayed under, filling your lungs while glancing up at the infinitely rockier surface.

Suddenly, you were being pulled along again, under the stormy water. You didn’t have the strength to fight him, letting him take you wherever he wanted.

It wasn’t long before you were being pushed onto the shore. You could feel the sand barely a few feet under the water and eagerly moved towards dry land.

You pulled yourself up onto the warm sand, breathing in air for the first time in a good while. You had moved past the storm and the feeling of the sun on your back was more than welcome.

As soon as you got your first breath of oxygen, it was like your lungs remembered that water wasn't supposed to be inside of them. You started coughing up the salty water on shore, gasping like you’d been drowning the whole time and just hadn’t realized it yet.

You saw your savior wince as you hacked up the sea water. “Sorry, didn’t know that would happen.”

You stared up at him incredulously as your breathing finally slowed. “Aren't sirens supposed to drown humans?”

His eyes narrowed at you above the water. “Aren’t humans supposed to be grateful when you save them?”

Fair enough. “Thank you. I don’t really understand why you saved me but thank you.”

You laid back on the sand, inevitably getting it in your hair but too exhausted to mind. The warmth was welcome after the freezing cold water.

“We do drown people sometimes,” he said quietly, like he was working it out for himself and you just happened to be overhearing it. “I was planning on going after your ship but it didn’t feel like a fair fight, after they just threw you off like that.”

“Humans didn’t want me, sirens didn’t even want to drown me.” You couldn’t help but laugh, it all felt so absurd.

“I can… I can drown you if you want?” He sounded deeply confused and you couldn’t blame him.

“Maybe some other time. By the way, where are we?”

“Just a little island nearby. I figured you’d want to get some rest before I took you anywhere. Why’d they throw you overboard anyways?”

“I was a stowaway,” you explained. “I was just trying to get back home, they found me mid storm and women are bad luck so off I went.”

“I can take you there if you want. Where the ship was going, I mean. I know all their routes. I won’t even drown you.”

Who would have guessed that the sailors would try to drown you and then you’d have a siren promising to bring you ashore, it was like the world had turned upside down.

“Thank you so much.”

“Also, we should wait until night, I’ll take you back then okay?” He sounded very insistent, despite you having no idea what he was on about.

You were honestly worried you might freeze to death if you left at night. “How about in the morning?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He waited eagerly, watching the sun set. It was refreshing, being able to see it after locking yourself below deck for so long. When it finally dipped below the horizon he turned to you. “Watch this.”

His tail flicked excitedly behind him, a light glow starting to reflect off of the scales on his bottom half.

As he ran his hands quickly through the water, you were able to make it out better. The water lit up a light blue as he moved.

You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face, your eyes going wide with wonder. “Oh my god, that’s incredible.”

“Isn’t it? It’s why I like this island so much, it’s so strong here. It’s a bunch of tiny plants in the water that are glowing, I thought you’d like it.”

How could you not? You’d never seen anything like it in your life, it almost looked like the water was alight with a blue flame.

You could feel your siren’s eyes on you as you moved your hand back and forth in the water.

“Are you less sad now?” he asked and your movement slowed at his question.

“What?”

“You were upset, did I fix it?”

Was that what he was trying to do? “Why do you care?”

He shrugged. “Not often I get to talk to you guys, our encounters are usually less pleasant than this. We’re kind of similar, you know. Sailors don’t like me either.”

“Small world.”

Eventually you abandoned the glowing water, as amazing as it was, in an attempt to rest. You knew you needed to get some sleep. You were exhausted but it was cold and you never fully dried off and you were absolutely miserable. You heard a shuffling in the sand and then a warm hand touched your side. You didn’t know how his body regulated his temperature so well in the cold water. His arms were open, a clear invitation to nestle into him

You hesitated and he spoke. “You seem like you could use the warmth.”

You move towards him, head settling on his chest as his arms wrapped around you.

“I thought fish were cold blooded,” you said as his arms rubbed up and down yours, immediately sending a wave of heat through you.

“I’m only half fish.”

“Is that how you can breathe out here?” you asked, looking at the trail he left as he dragged himself ashore.

He murmured in the affirmative, leaning back to make sure you could comfortably lie down against him. He was right, his body heat did help. There was also something comforting about leaning against him, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

You drifted off faster than you would have thought possible while soaking wet and cuddled up with a fish man.

When you woke up you glanced at the boy next to you. He really did look silly on the land like this, flopped over on his side. As you took him in, you observed gills right over where you assumed his ribs would be. You knew what he had told you last night but he looked too peaceful and still. You quickly nudged him awake, wanting to make sure he was alright out of the water like this.

He rubbed his eyes, moving slightly in the sand in an attempt to get a good look at you. “What do you want?”

“Just wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”

“Mmhmm, still breathing, can I go back to sleep now?”

He tried to roll over and you nudged him again. “Don’t we need to leave?”

He squinted up at your face, which you knew was creased with worry, and his demeanor softened. “Yeah, let’s get you home.”

You helped him back in the water and he pulled you in after him, looking back at you, clearly deep in thought.

“You know how I kissed you yesterday?” he finally asked.

“To make me breathe underwater, yeah I do.”

“Yeah, well it would be much easier to transport you if you could breathe underwater again. If you’re cool with that.”

It was the most roundabout way anyone had ever asked to kiss you before, that was for sure.

He seemed nervous about it so instead of letting him dwell on it, you just kissed him. You hoped there were no other rules to the kiss you needed to follow but your siren didn’t seem to mind, instead leaning into it. It was kind of nice, being the one to surprise kiss him this time.

You knew the kiss didn’t have to be long, the one from the day before had barely lasted a moment, and yet you lingered. His hand hesitantly rose to cup your cheek, his touch featherlight. He wasn’t holding you there but his touch begged you to stay just a second longer.

He looked like a deer in headlights when you pulled away.

“Will that work?” you asked.

He cleared his throat, still looking dazed. “Yeah, that should be fine. Come on.”

Even knowing that you’d be fine and you’d be able to breathe, it took forever to will yourself to breathe in after he pulled you into the water, waiting until the last second before you passed out.

The journey felt much faster than it should have been. You couldn’t have been zooming through the water for more than an hour when you were being pulled to the surface once more, your feet extending to find rocks beneath you.

You turned and your eyes met the shore, the dock looming above you. You can tell that you beat the ship here. Who knows if they’d made it at all, maybe the storm had taken them out. You supposed you’d probably never know.

He grinned up at you as you stood, still lying below you in the water. “This is your stop.”

You had no idea how to thank him, what did one even say to someone who had just saved your life.

“Thank you,” you managed. “If you ever need anything…”

If he ever needed anything what? You couldn’t imagine he’d have a particularly easy time finding you.

He seemed to understand your meaning anyway. “I’ll be sure to ask. And if you ever change your mind on the drowning thing, let me know.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Will do.”

You pulled yourself out of the water and fully onto the shore, the rocks shifting beneath you as you sat, and you watched your siren swim off, hoping that someday you’d see him again and he could take you up on that favor.

#asks #terato #merman x reader #merman x human #monster x reader #monster x human #monster bf #monster boyfriend #I ended up really liking this #there’s a chance I write a continuation where she works at the dock and he keeps his eye on her #we’ll see

405 notes · View notes

ricflairdrip20 · 7 months

Text

Requested by: @the-tales-of-ren

“Could you also maybe do another one later on where he catches Angela being mean to the reader and he sticks up for her something?”

————————————————————————

David Sticks Up For You (David Wallace x Reader)

It has been a stressful week so far. Your mind was occupied by the memories of the tragedy you experienced at your university campus many years back and dealing with such incredible losses of your friends. Although you took a few days off and went back to work, your mind is still somewhere else. You were on autopilot as you do your usual routine, writing in numbers on your general ledger.

You weren’t dumb, in fact, you’re a really good accountant, unlike Kevin. You always tried your best to put in your efforts to carefully calculate because numbers don’t lie and one small mistake, everything is messed up. Which is why you were confused when Angela suddenly stormed to you with a disappointed look on your face.

“Y/N, you were supposed to write in 500, and you wrote in 5,000 on the general ledger. Now I have to make a second entry to correct it. What is wrong with you?”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, Angela, I didn’t mean to… I’ll try to focus more,” You stammered, even though you knew Angela isn’t very forgiving when it comes to accounting errors.

“Maybe I misjudged you. You’re not as diligent as I thought you were.” You felt a little hurt because you tried so hard, yet you knew better that even the best can sometimes screw up. And you wish you have the courage to stand up to the rightly wounded accountant.

As she continues berating you, you noticed a figure from your peripheral vision approaching you, and you recognized that to be David Wallace.

Although you knew David for about a few months since he was hired as a CFO of Dunder Mifflin, you can tell he’s a down to earth guy, even if you don’t see him that often since he works in New York, which is three hours away from Scranton, Pennsylvania. And you’re trying your best to deny it, but you can’t help but feel a little attraction towards the man. You excused it to be someone you’d look for in your significant others, someone who’s there for you during your hardships, especially intense one at that.

“Excuse me, but did I hear you say that Y/N isn’t good at her job?” David asked, his hands placed on his hips.

“She miscalculated the general ledger and now I had to redo the whole thing!” Angela exclaimed.

“That doesn’t excuse you from talking down on her. From what I’ve seen, she does an excellent job at keeping track of the financial position of this company. And yes, she will make mistakes without intention. We all do, because you never know what goes through the person’s mind at that moment.” The last sentence pulled your heartstrings because little does David know, that was your case.

Angela scoffed and walked back to her desk. David turned to you.

“I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” He asked softly.

You gulped and nodded, not being able to produce words. An almost inaudible “thank you” is all you can do to get your message across.

David smiled warmly before digging into his jacket inner pocket and pulled out his business card with his personal number written on the back.

“Keep in touch and keep up the good work,” he said as he handed you the card. You gingerly accepted it and nodded, partly in disbelief and happiness that the handsome CFO cares enough about you to make sure you were straight… maybe leading into something more.

#the office #david wallace #david wallace x reader

32 notes · View notes

quinloki · 5 months

Note

Okay honestly you’re so valid for having Sabo thoughts bc tell me why today I had the thought of like

Ace is your ex hs boyfriend and y’all ended things on good terms you just weren’t that into eachother and made better friends so you’ve stayed friends casually and like

Something happens and you end up needing to call him and he picks you up with his hot brother Sabo (or Marco passed my mind too ngl) in the car and you’re like shit I can’t date my ex’s brother… but then situations ensue and >>

I wish I was better at putting my thoughts into words so I could enable you more, tbh 🫡

(The shiny ace made it so hard for me to take pics or wouldn’t focus!!!)

Also I just dug thru all my extra cards that I’m gonna pass along to my cousins and I don’t have any Sabo?? This is a travesty I must correct.

Listen I’m so glad you’re on the Marco/Sabo train cause let’s be real. Not many people are. And I’m glad I can come into your inbox and talk about them bc I have absolutely too many brainrots with them lately.

i can see it though.

Sabo ends up learning details about you from Ace, once he admits to Ace he's interested. You and Ace had a clean break, mutual, no real drama - there was a relief to it, honestly, you were both relieved the other was okay with stepping the romance into friendship without breaking any hearts.

You missing your bus was an unexpected windfall for Sabo, when he decides to tag along with Ace to get you home. The blonde's smitten, the fact that you and Ace get along so well is probably part of it. Observant and far more detail oriented than Ace or Luffy, Sabo picks up on the fact that you're at least physically attracted to him.

He's sure he knows how the chat will go with Ace, but he asks anyway. Ace is for it - Sabo's a good dude, and Ace won't have to worry about you. Not that he can yay or nay who you do date, but as his friend he wants you safe and happy.

This got long, more under the cut!

With Sabo there's no chance you'll be calling him crying cause some jerk wad beat you up (or tried to, you've got a solid hook, much to Ace's dismay).

Sabo doesn't hold back - he's not getting down on one knee in public or anything, but he does break the ice with a single flower, his number written inside the paper bow wrapped around the stem. Putting you at ease and letting you know he's already talked to Ace about it, as long as your comfortable with it, he'd like to see where things go.

He's such a perfect gentleman it almost makes your head spin. Pulls out your chair, opens doors, helps you in and out of your coat, offers his hand when you're stepping down or up from something. Even with every fluid action, he's still right up against you in the club.

You can feel every taut muscle just beneath his clothes as you move with the music. Actions full of silk are coming from fingers that could shatter stone.

You're not going into things completely blank on him either. Ace talked about his brothers a LOT. You haven't met Luffy yet, he's finishing school abroad, sometimes his grandfather insisted on, but you feel like you already know him.

You don't know all of Sabo's secrets, but you know there's a beast beneath the tailored clothes and well-kept hats. Not that that's a deterrent in the slightest, as his club styled dancing has ballroom dancing steps woven into it, you can't help but wonder what weaves its way through his moves in other settings.

There's no rush - you enjoy one another's company on many levels and most of your dates end with a sweet kiss that grows deeper and deeper as time goes on.

When you invite him inside, you can hear the leather of his gloves creak as his fingers flex. He accepts, letting you lead the pace and vibe of the night. There's no strain in his voice, no urgent need in his actions, even though your heart's about to beat out of your chest, your own nerves making you a mess.

The smile that slips across his lips when you ask him to be a gentleman and help you out of your clothes is one you hadn't seen before, but most certainly would again.

#quin answers #kazieai #sabo the revolutionary #portgas d ace #x reader #reader insert

22 notes · View notes

robynlilyblack · 2 years

Note

heyy first i love your fics and i wanted to resquest a (young) remus×gn!reader where the reader hates to lose so when they play a game with remus and lose they like pout or something and remus just laughs because he finds this cute and he confort them at the same time <33 tyy

Sore loser

Remus Lupin x gn! reader

Summary: Y/n always gets so mad when they lose and Remus finds it adorable

Warnings: swearing, established relationship

A/n: 0.9k words, aww that’s so sweet thank you x enjoy!

Navigation | Remus Lupin Masterlist

“Stupid game” you mutter lowly, arms crossed as you sat on his bed, the game wasn’t over but you were losing and merlin did you hate that with a burning passion

Remus tilts his head, looking up at you from the board

“What love?” he pretends he never heard but of course he did, wolf hearing and all, but he still played along

“Nothing” you shake your head, wearing that adorable little pout of yours “Make your move”

He knew you were mad, but merlin was is just so damn cute and a tad ironic. He was usually the grumpy one while you were just a ray of sunshine, but when it came to you losing, the roles were reversed

“So you only get one die because you…”

“I only have one little solider man I know Rem” you snap so cutely he can’t even get annoyed, in fact he tries his best not to laugh

You both roll the dice, Remus getting two fives and you a…

One

You let out a little huff knowing you just lost your only foothold in Africa, readying yourself to play again when Remus’ places his cards on the board

“Sorry love that was the last thing I needed”

Remus could see the fury in your eyes, trying your best not to flip the board and instead you just pull your legs to your chest

“Good game” you tell him, like you had a gun to your head, so forced he’s nervous you may combust

“Thanks” he grins

He was also competitive, hence why he never let you win as he knew you wanted your actual wins to be completely real. Although, when he did lose he never pouted like you did, but maybe that was because it happened so rarely

“You want to stay the night?” he asks whilst packing up the game

“Yeah” you say softly, lugging yourself off his bed and over to his dresser

Remus smiled but his heart ached just a tad, you had now gone from mad to just sad at the loss, the little pout never leaving. He watched you take out some clothes before not so quietly shoving the drawer shut

“Need help?” he places the game’s box down on the floor and scoots down the bed, legs resting either side of your standing figure

You pout harder somehow and he chuckles

“I can dress my…don’t laugh” you chuck the clothes behing him on the bed, hands moving to your hips

“I’m not laughing” he lets out one last chuckle “Final one” he bites down in his lip to prevent his grin

“You’re mean” you cross your arms glaring at him

“I am so mean” he concurs wholeheartedly, hands gently slipping under your untucked shirt, thumbs caressing where your skin and bottoms meet

“You cheated”

“I cheated so hard” he nods again, feeling your body relaxing

“I let you win” your arms fall to your sides

“Of course and I am terrible” he smiles shaking his head

“So terrible” you mutter

“Very terrible indeed” he confrims whislt gently encouraging you onto his lap

“And mean” you add

“Double mean” he pursues his lips as he agrees

“Good” you give a nod, finally running out of things to say

“Good. Now that’s settled, wanna give your victor a kiss”

Remus smiles to himself at your glare, watching as you say completely silent for almost a minute. Yes maybe he was a bit of a meany but he just found this side of you so amusing

“Prick” you maintain your annoyed look but his constant loving smile makes it difficult

"I can see you smiling" he points to your lips

"Am not" you grumble, trying to harden your pout but your tugging lips makes it obsolete

"You're cracking" he sings, looking so happy with himself

"No" you breathe out, shaking your head quickly

"Come on bunny, grace me with that smile of yours"

Damn him for using that petname

“I hate you” you say with a smile, giving up and letting it engulf your features

“I hate you too” he lies, pecking your smiling lips and loving how it widens

You shuffle closer to him on his lap, your hands resting on his chest, fiddling with his undone tie

“I don’t hate you…I love you quite alot” you say, making sure to say it vocally just in case "More than a lot"

“I know…” he nudges his nose with yours “…I love you too by the way, even if you’re a sore loser”

The pout is back but it’s more like a scrunch due to your smile

“Can I hate you just a lil bit?” you hold up a small space between your thumb and forefinger

“Yes, but only if you give me a kiss first” he bargains

You ponder it for a minute

“Two kisses” you look at him with confidence

“You are a terrible negotiator" he laughs "When we're older you are never going to the farmers market yourself” he tells you leaning in but only to be stopped by your finger pressing against your lips

“Farmers market?”

He nods, cupping your cheeks and squeezing them ever so slightly “Yup, we are going to be that couple. Live in a little cottage, have a garden to grow food for my hungry bunny" he teases and you giggle "And once a month we will go to the farmers market where I will haggle for us and you will stand there hanging off my arm as my pretty” he pecks your lips “pretty” and again “bunny” once more

“That sounds perfect Rem…” say as he pulls away, hands gently wrapping around his wrists, your soft smile morphing into a cheeky grin “…but that was three kisses and I feel ripped off”

He lets out a laugh at that before placing his hand to his chest “My deepest and sincerest apologises. That was so selfish of me my love”

“Very selfish” you giggle

“How can I make it up to you?”

“Rematch?”

Thank you for reading 💛

#remus lupin and reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin and you #remus lupin and y/n #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus x you #remus x reader #remus and reader #remus and you #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #marauders era #marauders #robynsrequests

603 notes · View notes

romeulusroy · 1 year

Text

Parting Pt. 2 (Roy!Sibling x Kendall Roy)

Character/s: Kendall, Connor, fake husband, fake baby lol

Word Count: 2,065

Requested: would you be able to write a part 2 to parting? its so so good and would love to see a happy ending! - anon

Requested: wow. that last roy!reader fic killed me. are we getting a part 2? if not, what happened to the reader in your interpretation? - anon

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Oh my loves!!! Thank youuuu so so much!!! I wasn't planning on part two BUT y'all inspired me!!! I love protective Kendall so much it's not even funny!! He's so babygirl lol! I hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Parting Pt. 1 (Roy!Sibling x Kendall Roy)

Succession Masterlist

You found out your father died through tv. Your sister, your brothers behind her, confirming this. When was the last time you saw Shivy cry? You drop the sippy cup in your hand, rising from the couch, your heart suddenly in your throat. When he found you, hours later, you’d frozen the picture on their faces, on the headline, the dark room illuminated by red and blue: Logan Roy, conservative media mogul who shaped contemporary politics, dead at 84. You hadn’t seen him since that night, months ago. You hadn’t spoken to him much, but he seemed alright, he seemed okay. What went so wrong? He handed you your phone. Over a dozen missed calls, texts, emails from everyone. They all broke the news in their own ways. Connor spoke so softly you could barely hear him, telling you they did everything they could, they tried everything. Roman, in all his denial, asks how you’re doing, unable to say his name. Shiv apologizes over and over again. She knows you weren’t able to talk to him, his baby. Only Kendall knows what truly bothers you, only he knows why no one could get ahold of you. His message, his calls, all of them short, shocked, to the point. I’m sorry he wouldn’t let you go. He took your phone to work with him, now for a while. If there was an emergency, if something happened to Liam, he had cameras. He would see, he would get help, all the way from the office. Stunned, fresh out of tears, you clutch the device in your palm. Liam is crying now, pulling at your pant leg, begging for you, but you can’t hear him. Your father was dead and you weren’t there, they couldn’t reach you. The very brothers and sister that raised you, that loved you, had no way of getting to you. You had to find out that your father was gone like the rest of the world. The messages, the calls, they’re hours old. For hours he knew what had happened and chose to ignore it. You can’t bring yourself to respond. You don’t know what to say. You’re sorry, you’re the most sorry you’ve ever been: for not being there, for not knowing, for getting trapped in this marriage, this life. Wordlessly, you hand your phone back to him, picking up your son and shutting yourself into his room. You hope for eternity.

He was so angry when he found the card. He smashed glasses, he put his fist through a wall, yelling and screaming. He was exploding and you would be his only casualty. You thank God every day you were nowhere near Liam, that he was tucked away in his bed, in his room, where he could not touch him. He grabbed you so hard he left bruises. That’s when things got worse. That’s when he made new rules. That’s when you found it hard to get out of bed. He made good on his threats. He took your phone every day, he had cameras installed, he made sure there was security outside your door so that he knew if you were leaving, who was coming. He accused you of cheating without any evidence, as if you had the opportunity to speak to anyone else. He was so paranoid, so angry. Kendall called, he left emails, he even stopped by once, but you wouldn’t let him up. You knew he’d see, you knew it would only make things worse. He made excuses for you, he went to events and parties without you. You weren’t sure they even noticed after a while. My absence would not be missed, you thought. He took Liam despite your best efforts, to family dinner and gatherings. You got sweet texts, from Connor who always made a point to text that he missed you, from Shiv who wished you were there, even Rome would send the occasional you’re missing out text. Only Kendall knew what was wrong. He must’ve figured out he had your phone, that he read his messages before you got the chance. Once, and only once, he’d forgotten to delete the thread. Kendall remained calm in his threats, but they were there, lighting up your expression. You’d locked yourself in the master bedroom, the last place with a lock, and scrolled through. Lots of fuck you’s. A few bastards and pricks. Then paragraph after paragraph of legal warnings. That he would get you out of there, that you would get full custody of Liam, that he would never see you and him ever again. It made you feel so seen, so heard, so loved you nearly cried. The next day it was all gone, but it was too late. You knew your brother was helping you. He hadn’t given up on you just yet.

You leave the babysitter with strict instructions. Whatever he needed to say, whatever vague warning he needed to give, he gave. Now it was your turn. If you could, if you could, he would never leave your side. But he shouldn’t be there today. You felt like you shouldn’t, practically a stranger to your family. Did they even want to see you? Would they be upset? Since that night, he hadn’t said anything about it. Not I’m sorry about your father, not even an apology for not letting you know sooner. You heard him on the phone with Tom, Hugo, Frank and Karl. What were the next best steps? When you’d been invited to Norway, Kendall, hoping he could get you alone, he went to your place. No one told him no. You’d guessed Kendall let it slide. He was, after all, still an employee of Waystar. Your father made sure your husband was well off in the company despite not deserving it, not earning it. You guessed he let it go because he knew, whatever they said or did, it would come back to you. It was the best few days you’d had in a long time. He took your phone with him, but that didn’t matter. You were free of him. You still slept in Liam’s room, but you didn’t have this crushing sense of dread every time the clock struck seven. You didn’t have to brace yourself for what kind of mood he’d be in when he got home from work. You wouldn’t have to listen to him bad-mouthing your family, the only people who ever gave a damn about him. You stayed up watching movies of your childhood, sharing them with your son, not caring how loud it played. In the morning you made pancakes from scratch, not afraid of the mess he would later inspect. You knew what your siblings were saying, what kind of questions they were asking, but you didn’t care. For the first time in a long time you were free from him. You both were.

In the car he holds your hand. His tone is light and bright, talking about the Gojo deal, about Matsson, about how much he likes him, as if you weren’t on your way to a funeral. You nod along, staring out the window. It’s been some time since you left the apartment. The sky was gray. It was colder than you thought. It made you sad, regretful. Your life was wasting away to nothing because of him. Because of you. You press your forehead against the glass, your hand still in his. He rambles on and on about his success, about the joke that made Matsson laugh, about your family. They were all nice, well except Kendall. Can you believe it? My father-in-law dies and he has nothing to say to me? I was like a son to him. You can’t decide: if you had something sharp would you use it on yourself or on him? Anything to end this conversation. The ride feels excruciating. His skin burns yours, makes you feel like there are bugs underneath. You want to jerk away. You want to tell him to fuck off. But you can’t jeopardize today. If you mess up, if you say or do anything he doesn’t like, you will never see your family again. He will turn the car around. You won’t get to see your father one last time. You have to let him touch you, talk to you, kiss you, whatever gets you to that church. It’s a mistake, but you can’t help yourself. As soon as the car pulls up, you jump out, spotting Connor and Willa. You’re in your brother's arms before you know what’s going on, shaking and crying, unable to control yourself. He is right behind you. Hey, hey it’ll be okay kiddo. It’ll be okay. Pops is glad you’re here. You’re not crying over that, though. You never thought you’d see him again. He holds you for as long as you need, until you’ve calmed down. Willa talks to your husband, though she seems off. Uncomfortable. Eventually he goes in, not wanting to waste another moment. There are very important people that need to talk to me. I’ll find you after. You just nod. You let Connor and Willa go too, grateful for her, for the both of them. She gives you a sad, knowing look before following your brother.

You know smoking can kill you. Immediately you drop it, stubbing it out, fighting back the urge to run to him. A nasty habit you picked up again. If he saw you, you’d pay for it. You‘re not one to talk, you laugh, your eyes filling up with tears. Kendall doesn’t look good. He wouldn’t not today, but he’s got something on his mind. You give him a quick hug before he pulls back, looking around before moving. He leads you from the church doors, down the steps, casual in his movements. You check behind you, making sure he can’t see you, he hasn’t followed you, but he’s made sure your husband is far too busy with Shiv and Matsson. You’re not leaving, that would create a scene. So what were you doing? Past other mourners, past the cars pulling up, past the faces you fail to recognize, he stops at the edge of the street. He looks like he can’t find the right words. The silence is killing you. Ken, we don’t have a lot of time. At this moment you look so scared, so small. Your eyes are red from crying and there’s a shake in your voice that leaves him thinking violent thoughts. Rava is taking the kids upstate, to see her parents. Oh. I’m sorry Ken- No, y/n. Rava is taking the kids, all of them. Mine, yours. What? You looked behind him, expecting that angry face, but there was just a small crowd dressed in black, talking among one another. H,he gave the babysitter clear instructions. She would never, she would- She did. Rava showed up with some backup. He’s safe. It takes everything in you not to break down. Ken smiles as he speaks, coming to life before you. You’re not going home with him, you’re never going back there again, okay? I have security waiting and I have a lawyer too who’s going to serve him all at the burial. They’ll escort him off the premises. How did he do this? It’s too good to be true. Kendall, it’s sweet of you, but I can’t. You don’t know what he’ll do when he finds out. He has cameras, he'll know. I can’t. You start to shake, on the verge of hysteria. He puts his hands on your shoulders, making you look at him. Not behind him, not on the street, only at him. I fucked up last time, y/n. I let you go when I shouldn’t have. And then I didn’t see you for months. I fucked up once, I won’t do it again. He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s done. The words ring in your ears: he can’t hurt you anymore, he can’t hurt you anymore, he can’t hurt you anymore. He let you go last time and that was his fault. He thought the worst, he feared the worst, every time he saw your empty seat. He had to pass that motherfucker like they were friends, like he wasn’t holding you hostage. Not anymore. He’d pay for what he’s done, Kendall would make sure of it.

#requested #writing #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader #succession fic #kendall roy fic

143 notes · View notes

chaoticgeminate · 2 years

Text

A Future with You

Summary: Sometimes things happen that change everything, and the kind actions of a stranger help you at a low point in your life. Not only do you get to return that kindness but you also wind up happier than you've ever been.

Rating: M (Non/Semi-explicit smut content)

Pairing: Marcus Pike x gn!Reader (If you notice any descriptors please let me know kindly and I'll fix them)

Notes: This work is a part of the @pedrostories Secret Santa event and is a gift, I tried very hard not to imply any holiday the reader celebrates but included a holiday tradition from my giftee which is why there is a Christmas film on the title card. That being said:

Happy Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Merry Yule, Saturnalia Salutations to my Secret Santa giftee @browneyes-issac! I really hope you enjoy my gift, Lotus, this was a lot of fun to write ❤

A Future with You (6.7k)

“I’m sorry.”

Echoing, repeating, inside your head like a specter that wouldn’t leave you alone; the two words held none of the emotions they should have, the tone was blank and empty and had been delivered that way. Even now you could still see his stupid face looking anything but sorry, those green eyes lacking any empathy for what he’d done to you, and it hurt worse as all the ugly little thoughts you’d kept at bay were buzzing like a swarm of pests surrounding you.

You aren’t good looking enough, why would he choose Kaleigh otherwise?

You aren’t smart enough, you would have gotten that promotion sooner if you were, right?

You spend too much time working rather than being a good partner, he wouldn’t have to find affection somewhere else if you tried harder would he?

Each thought cut deeper and deeper, the aching in your chest bleeding out and making you feel cold, your legs pulled close to your chest and your face buried in your knees to hide the tears spilling over your cheeks. Around you the airport was bustling and loud but you couldn’t hear it, the endless number of conversations and bubbly pop music were muted by the grief and the voices of your own inner demons screaming at you.

Someone touched you, the hand on your elbow gentle, but you hadn’t been ready for it; head snapping up to look, worried you’d missed your flight or something. Instead, there were gentle brown eyes, a soft smile fading into a look of concern, and the stranger pulled his hand back; his lips moved but you still couldn’t hear him over the roaring of your inner demons, now mocking you for bringing a stranger into your pity party.

He tried again and this time you paid attention, you forced yourself to focus on the here and now, you pushed those inner demons back knowing it would just make the intrusive thoughts worse later.

“Are you on the DCA flight? I can make sure you don’t miss it.”

“What?”

Good going, dummy, way to sound like a moron in front of this guy.

“If you- if you need to stay like that, I can make sure you don’t miss the boarding call. I don’t expect you to open up to a complete stranger, but I don’t want you to miss your flight because of the hurt.” Part of you, the pride that you still had left, bristled at how quickly he’s seen you and figured you out; wanting to deny the assist on principle that you were just fine without someone jumping in. That you didn’t need a fucking knight in shining armor or some shit, no matter how distraught you seemed to be.

He's just being kind.

This stranger was giving you more courtesy that your ex had in, well, probably a long time. He was giving you the chance to hurt without the worry that it would cause problems getting home, and you needed that more than you knew.

“Please?” Your voice was rough from the screaming fit just hours before, when Ryan had the audacity to ask you to give him half of your own savings -thank the fucking powers that be you had not combined finances yet- so he could buy an engagement ring for Kaleigh. His rushed proposal to you had been done with a cheap ring from a little crane game he’d won on your anniversary trip, it was cute and you’d been happy with it because it’d been a sweet proposal and just fit the two of you so well; now though it stung, thinking about the fact that he wanted to give Kaleigh the hallmark proposal and happy family.

A nod was all you needed to return to burying your face in your knees, to muffle your soft wheezy sobs in the plush fabric of your scarf -it was going to be cold in DC and you weren’t going to be the idiot unprepared for the weather- and just letting the emotions go. But this stranger didn’t just support you by promising the bare minimal help, he went and got a fresh bottle of water for you when you’d finished yours and even went and got you a small snack from one of the nearby vending machines when you’d told him you hadn’t eaten since at least two days before.

This man had put more care and attention into you in the span of two hours than Ryan had in two years.

Fuck you’re pathetic if a stranger is better to you than your ex was.

Marcus Pike, as he introduced himself eventually, was a genuinely good man and you had to admit you were kind of jealous of this Teresa person that was apparently flying out to DC in a week to follow him. He’d gotten a text from her that she was working on a case or something, that she’d call in an hour or two if she could, and that led to him telling you about her. But the jealousy you thought you’d feel that he was getting everything he wanted and you weren’t just… wasn’t there. If anyone deserved a happy marriage it was this good-hearted, sweet, man beside you who saw a stranger in pain and stepped up.

“So, uh, are you from DC or the surrounding area?” He was trying to make conversation no doubt, you hummed as you chewed on the bite of the meal you’d ended up buying now that your appetite was returning, and a part of you was at war with giving him such personal information when you’d only just met him today. But you didn’t have some of the same bad vibes that you usually got with creeps or pushy men; you had a feeling if you refused to answer he’d actually respect that.

“Surrounding area, though my promotion does come with a change of office to DC. I’m in Baltimore currently but I’ll be looking for a place in DC as soon as I get back since it’s an hour commute not counting the traffic. The week I got off was supposed to be for me to begin the process of finding residency closer to work, I had use-or-lose time that would’ve been lost as soon as I started at the new role so it just made sense to take it when I got the affirmative that I’d be promoted.” Marcus was nodding in understanding at your logic, you hadn’t expected to actually get approved for any houses or places but just being able to take your time touring the options had been the idea.

Marcus grabbed his phone and handed it to you after opening a browser window, the condo was a nice place and the cost was actually pretty decent for the size.

“I was initially looking here, since they’re one-bedroom places, but with Teresa coming along I decided to spring for a two-bedroom so we could have an office room.” You sent yourself the share link, already liking that it had designated parking and security cameras around the building, but what sold it was the fact that the interior wasn’t the modern aesthetic with sleek square edged and monochrome colors. The appliances were a lovely shade of royal blue, the furniture that came with the place was vintage and fun looking, and if that was Marcus’ taste it was just one more way he was nothing like any man you’d met.

“Thank you, I’ll check this place out.” You had a few more days left of time at least, since handling things with your ex had been done quickly once you knew what was actually going on, and since he was planning on staying here in Austin you’d even decided to take the L and mail his things back to him so he didn’t have to fly back and you could avoid him accusing you of purposefully withholding his belongings. That meant time to wander around DC and get an idea of where you might want to live, though this place was looking pretty alright.

For the first time in a while you didn’t even feel scared that a stranger would know where you potentially lived, the warning bells were absent and you didn’t know if that was because Marcus was just that good or because he was good at hiding it, and you decided to let yourself believe in him being a good person.

There were so many other things you had to stress about and this was something you didn’t want to add to the list.

As the boarding call started, after you and Marcus spent time talking about favorite books and films, he let you on ahead of him and waved from his seat near the front of the cabin as you moved toward the back. The curse of booking a late ticket, of course, and after setting your phone to airplane mode you decided to take the nap you knew you needed.

Marcus bid you farewell at the exit terminal in DCA while he was getting his phone turned back on, since you didn’t have to go through baggage claim there was no added wait, and you were off and in a cab toward the hotel you’d booked last minute in the city so that you could just stay and explore living spaces before heading back to your place in Baltimore.

The condo was finally furnished, it looked like your space, and all of the boxes of Ryan’s stuff had long since been shipped off and confirmed to arrive at Austin. Breaking the lease on your old place had been costly -his parents chose to cover the cost after the truth came out- but you were free, free of someone who saw you as a piggy bank and free to move on with your career and live the life you wanted to live. You wiped the sweat off your brow and decided to head down the road to the nearby diner, a bite to eat that you didn’t have to cook sounded great, and you had a few hours before your best friends would be here to help put your knickknacks and art up.

It had been months since you got back, months since you’d started at work in your new position, and even if finding the time to hunt for a place in DC was limited to weekends and unexpected breaks in your work weeks you’d managed to finally tour a bunch of apartments and condos in the area. In the end you’d settled on the place Marcus had shown you after getting the in-person tour.

Now as you faced the brisk fall weather your mood was much higher, you were living a fair distance from work that public transport and even just walking would be fine too, and now you were going to get some good classic food. Warm and soft lighting made you relax as you entered the eatery, it was a seat yourself joint and you were ready to take a seat at the bar when you spotted a familiar face in one of the booths, waving when he looked up from his phone screen; Marcus’ smile was blunted since your first meeting and you glanced at the bar a moment and walked over to greet him instead.

“Hey stranger, fancy seeing you here. Want company?” Not wanting to assume anything you couldn’t help but grin when his smile did shift to something warmer and more welcoming.

“Only if you want to.” You slid into the seat with a smile after he gave you the okay. “How have you been, since getting back to Baltimore?”

“Better, it’s still- there’s still plenty of hurt but I’m in a better place all around; especially now that I know the whole truth. I just finally finished unpacking and organizing my place here in DC, so I figured I’d celebrate. How about you? How’s the East Coast treating you?” Since he was alone and lacking a band on his left ring finger you avoided the topic of the woman he’d said was coming out here, he’d been so excited about his engagement and with how sweet he was you had expected his fiancée to be just as enthusiastic.

Marcus’ shoulders dropped a little and you didn’t even think before reaching out to take the hand he had on the table, offering a sympathy-filled smile, and his eyes dropped from your face to your connected hands before he let that smile fall away.

“East Coast as a whole is okay, but Teresa ended up breaking the engagement to be with the guy that she was in love with before me. I knew it wasn’t- I knew that as long as she was around Jane that she would choose him; we’d only been together a few months before I proposed, I didn’t want to lose my chance with her just by being transferred so I’d called in a few favors to get her a position here and hoped that being away from the guy that wasn’t returning her feelings would let her move on. With me.”

You knew he’d moved fast; he’d told you that, but you had seen shorter dating periods turn into long and happy marriages before. What upset you was that Marcus had put his heart, his hope, into someone that just wasn’t in a place to be that person for him and wasn’t willing to just tell him that.

“You saw what the two of you could be and wanted to try for that, Marcus, and that’s perfectly okay. You gave Teresa every chance to tell you ‘no’ and she didn’t take it for whatever reason, if she wasn’t able to commit to you entirely then she shouldn’t have accepted your proposal. If she wasn’t able to communicate with you, to try to move on from the other guy, then she should have said something. It takes two people to make a relationship work and it sounds to me like she wasn’t trying as hard as you were.”

When you looked up from your hands it was to a man with shiny eyes and tears threatening to fall, a man who had been hurt and needed someone who could at least understand the hurt, and you didn’t say anything when he used a napkin to dab his eyes gently. If anyone understood what he was feeling right now it was you, after all, given that the situations weren’t the same but there were some strong parallels. Him allowing himself to cry? To feel? You liked that about him, a lot.

“When Ryan proposed it was a rushed thing too, it was on our anniversary and he won a little plastic ring out of a crane game instead of the little charm bracelet he’d been trying for. He looked at it, looked at me, and then got down and proposed right there; almost made me think he meant to try for it for that reason and since our relationship had always been easy and never focused on the materialistic things, I loved it and it was sort of on brand. But he pulled away, after that, wasn’t involved in any of the planning unless I specifically asked for his opinion. I thought it was cold feet, or that he was just nervous because he didn’t know if his parents were able to make it to the wedding on the day we chose, but it turns out his childhood friend Kaleigh was newly single and he’d always loved her.”

Saying the story out loud made the anger lessen, now that you could see the signs clearer, even if the hurt was still there. How Ryan had always talked about Kaleigh’s clothes style, compared your hairstyles on special occasions to hers, and just being very attentive to her social media to the point that you knew more about Kaleigh than his own sister before you’d ended up opening a group chat with Hannah. A part of you also felt like you’d dodged a bullet, learning before you were married, because it meant that not only had it festered enough to do more hurt later but you had a lot more to lose in a divorce situation compared to Ryan.

His grip tightened, making you look up, and Marcus’ expression was one of understanding. Even without saying the words he knew that you were offering him support, that you knew his pain and would be the person he could open up to about it, and if it weren’t for your meals being delivered you were sure the two of you would have been able to just sit in comfortable silence.

“Ah, pancakes guy? Breakfast for dinner is something I haven’t done in a while.” You took a bite of your meal and Marcus shrugged, putting a good bit of syrup -the authentic maple syrup not the gloopy pancake syrup- onto the hubcap sized pancake along with a large dollop of butter. Your talk lightened to things in the area to do for fun, things in Baltimore to do for fun, hobbies you had currently and things you wanted to try and get into.

Marcus was genuinely a good person and creative as hell, watching him sketch you on a napkin in only a few minutes had left your face warming at the detail he managed to get into the little image. Only after you’d gone through a few refills, talked until you were sure your voice was going to be shot, and spent nearly an hour more than you planned there with him did the two of you decide to leave. Marcus paid for your meal -his insistence- and followed you back to yours where you brewed some coffee for him and let him lean in the doorway of your kitchen as the two of you talked about movies that you enjoyed.

By the time you both sat down on your couch, on opposite sides with you pulling your legs close, a small part of you was loath to let him leave. Marcus had proven before that he was attentive and kind with a big heart and knowing he was going to therapy -he’d glossed over it but you didn’t mind since he trusted you enough to even mention it in the first place- all it proved was that he wanted to heal and be better. You liked him, and even though your heart hurt, you were terrified of the idea of losing him because you wanted to take more time for yourself, but you didn’t want to push him into anything by rushing since he was going through the same heartbreak you were.

“So, uh, you never said what you did for work. What brought you from Texas to DC? Politician?” Dropping the thoughts before they could ruin your night, choosing to needle him just a little, you watched the way Marcus’ nose wrinkled instantly. You knew he wasn’t but you were sure he’d be a good one, the kind of guy to push for what was right without forcing his lifestyle on others, and the idea of him putting any of those crusty old raisins in office in their place was a fun one.

“Nah, I’m not old enough or conservative enough to be a Texan politician. FBI actually, art crimes. I’m on the team of people that investigate when museums get robbed of art work or statues, sometimes we end up tracking things internationally depending on the thief. We also have to inspect and identify if things that pop up are authentic or if they’re fakes.” His explanation was delivered in an even voice and he showed you his badge while he was at it, your throat tightened and you felt the gooseflesh on your arms as the image of him apprehending a thief made your heart beat a little faster.

As if he couldn’t be more attractive, he had to be an FBI agent too?!

“That’s really incredible, I can’t imagine it was easy either. Did you have to get a degree in classic art before going to whatever FBI training is?”

Marcus laughed softly.

“I went to Quantico first, actually, my father was always set that as his firstborn son I’d be police or military or some role with authority. He could handle the FBI but it wasn’t until I was out of Quantico serving as a low-level agent that I pursued my Art Degree and transferred to Art Crimes as my hands-on credit hours. He still hasn’t forgiven me.”

“His loss, that is an amazing career to pursue Marcus.” You didn’t miss the way his smile brightened or how he hung off every word as you told him about your own career, how you’d not only gotten your promotion but quickly earned a pay raise on top of the raise that came with the new position, and you honestly couldn’t be happier now that you’d escaped “Hallmark Rom-Com” territory with your love life. After being able to focus solely on your career you’d managed to get into a much better place for yourself financially, which if you were being honest, helped bring you to a better place emotionally too.

Marcus stayed until he absolutely couldn’t and even then you made plans to meet up again on the weekend since he knew of a place that did drive-in movies, old black and whites and you hated that when you closed the door your heart was skipping and you couldn’t stop the way you did a corny little victory dance. It wasn’t a date, he hadn’t explicitly said it, but it was a start.

It was a date, the first of many, and Marcus was a breath of fresh air in the best way. He was kind, supportive, understanding, and an attentive lover. The whole ass package and somehow fate had put him in your path, not that you were complaining in any way, and this year was your first holiday together. You had plenty of fall-time dates last year trading apple cider and pumpkin kisses, snuggling up in the library together to just read or going to snuggle in his car at the drive-in theater, and there had been countless times you’d stumbled into the door of one of your houses where clothing ended up on the floor and sometimes you didn’t even make it to a bed.

You didn’t regret it, him, at all; a number of people tried to slow you down, since it hadn’t been so long after your break-up with Ryan before you and Marcus began dating, but their tunes changed when they actually met him and saw you two with one another. The main reason you hadn’t spent the holiday together as a couple yet was that Marcus had plans already with his family out of the country last year and you weren’t quite willing to intrude on that, even though you were sure about him, you didn’t want to crash a family vacation.

This year was yours, he’d promised, but that wasn’t looking like it would happen. Part of you couldn’t help but sigh as you looked at the calendar again, Marcus had to go to Austin for an undercover op and couldn’t even call you, he only had an approximation for when he’d be able to either call or come home. Since he was a Christmas guy you had used your key to his place and decorated his condo for the holiday for him, even getting out his fake tree and doing the entire set up, sneaking a few things of your own traditions around the main room before deciding it was done.

But all the tinsel and candles -LED since you weren’t exactly staying here to watch them- and décor couldn’t erase how it was lacking one Marcus Pike to fill the space with his sunny smile and warm affection. Even if you couldn’t celebrate the whole season with him, at the very least Christmas was enough for you if he could make it home, and as the days were crossed off your calendar it was looking less and less likely. Your own condo was significantly sparse on décor, trying to lighten your mood by making Marcus’ place look like a Christmas dream hadn’t really worked out the way you planned and his continued absence stole your spirit.

A chime from your phone made you huff softly and answer, if only to disrupt the cheerful ringtone, you knew it wasn’t Marcus since he had a custom ringtone set.

“Hey sharpshooter.”

Ryan’s parents had given you the title when you’d beat his entire family at the little shooting game at their town faire on your first visit, it was bittersweet hearing it again.

“Hi Drew, happy holidays.”

“Happy holidays, kid, just wanted to let you know that Nadine and I are proud as hell of you and that we miss you. I know it’s probably weird, your ex-fiancé’s parents calling to wish you happy holidays but you were family to us.”

“I don’t blame you or Nadine for what happened, but thank you for calling. Tell her I said hello and happy holidays, Drew.”

“Will do, sharpshooter, we wanted to pack up and send you some honey from the bee farm if you’re interested as a gift.”

“That would be a wonderful present, thank you.”

Even if you didn’t use it you could always re-gift it and pass business along.

“Good, you still have that drop box?”

“Yep! That’s perfect, Drew.”

“Wasn’t going to ask for your new address, figured in the New Year you’d want to move on for good.”

“I appreciate that, more than you know, but I’m glad I got to say a proper goodbye this time.”

“Me too, kid. Don’t settle for anyone that doesn’t respect you, you deserve the world.”

“I haven’t, Drew.”

“Even better.”

You knew when a conversation with Drew was over, when the sentences turned to one or two words, and despite this being one of the shortest conversations you had with the man you appreciated it all the same because now you could move on knowing that everyone from that point in your life was okay. You honestly felt lighter and almost jumped when you heard your door opening, knowing you’d locked it behind you, and your eyes widened when Marcus rounded the corner of the entry with a large grin on his face.

“Marcus!”

Your wail of his name drowned out the rapid tattoo of your footsteps as you hurried to hug him, to prove that he was really here, and he caught you in a tight hold and just held you close. His cologne was different, the facial hair was different, and the lingering scent of dry Texas air was different, and yet the feel of his arms around you and the warmth he seemed to just give off constantly was the same.

“I missed you so much, I’m so sorry I couldn’t call or contact you-“

“Don’t apologize, I know it was for your job, you were safer that way and it was required. You’re home, that’s what matters.”

“God, I love you, I love you so much, I booked the first flight home I could and spent extra hours in the office just to make sure I could come back and stay here.”

Marcus didn’t argue at all when you dragged him through your apartment, mouth practically fused to yours as you worked to get him out of his clothes and into the shower, your own clothes joining his on the floor as you joined him under the stream of hot water. He proved how much he missed you, whispering praise and love into your wet skin, the slick glide of your bodies and heavy breathing laced with promises and traded affections between each throaty cry of his name were things you would remember for the rest of your life. He was insatiable for you, just as you were for him, and the shower round turned to soaking your sheets after stumbling out of the shower and away from your poor attempt at getting him clean.

He was all lips and tongue and hands, no inch of you was left untouched or unloved, and Marcus went as far as holding the back of your neck as he filled you just so he could make sure he could watch your face as he made you fall apart over and over again. His kisses were deep and intense, encompassing you entirely even as his hips rocked so slow and deep against yours, it was toe-curling and spine arching and yet you couldn’t get enough.

When you both were spent, wanting to just make out and talk and cuddle, Marcus migrated you to the couch after getting you both into comfier clothes where he nestled into the corner of your L shaped sofa and let you lay on him with his legs on either side of you, turning on some low background noise in the form of classic Christmas movies, and you couldn’t begin to care as Rudolph and Hermey met Yukon Cornelius since Marcus was here with you at last.

“I need to go decorate my condo; did you want to come help? You could just stay at mine until the holidays are over?”

A slow smile spread across your face when you realized that he hadn’t been home yet, he’d come to see you first, and you nodded before getting up to pack a bag to bring with you. Marcus helped of course, you even let him choose some of the casual stuff to pack, and other than stopping for a simple take-out dinner the ride was filled with him telling you about the sting operation. He’d posed as an art teacher to expose someone on the staff from not only stealing student’s work but for having some of the better talents recreate pieces that had gone missing and passing them off as legitimate.

You couldn’t be happier that he had pretty thick curtains so you couldn’t see the glow of the battery powered candles through them, asking him about his method of befriending the perpetrator to distract him as you let him handle the luggage so you could open the door, and Marcus’ face went slack when he stepped into the condo to see it fully decorated already.

“I- you- you decorated my condo?”

“Wanted you to come home to one less thing to do, it was a good way to help fight how much I missed you for a little while.”

Marcus’ slack expression warmed before he was tugging you onto the plush carpet, the net of Christmas lights you’d attached to his ceiling using command hooks twinkled like stars as Marcus kissed you deeply under them, and you couldn’t resist flipping him onto his back so he was looking up at the lights while you tugged off your hastily donned clothes again. Your bodies were dewy with sweat and the lights were reflecting off his skin and twinkling in his eyes, his lips dropped open as you held him in place so that you could give him nothing but pleasure, and Marcus’ hands gripped your hips to help move you as he watched you.

Even with his feet planted he let you lead, let you control the pace, and by the time you were shuddering and tensed up as you crested that high Marcus was seeking his own completion and guiding you with his hands until he was spent and shaking under you. He pulled you down and just laid with you under the Christmas lights that you’d put up, the warm condo -thank you automatic thermostats- was a little chilly but not enough to make you feel the need to get up just yet.

“I plan to do a lot more to you under these lights.” Marcus’ eyes were dark with mischief and desire as he made that promise and you were more than eager to let him see it through.

Waking up with Marcus’ warm body pressed close to yours kept you drowsy and comfortable, eyes heavy still even as you glanced at the clock, and while you didn’t have to get up early today there was definitely a motive involved doing so. For the past week or so Marcus had been sneaking out of bed before you to make you breakfast.

‘I like taking care of you, besides you’ll agree to move in sooner if the promise of breakfast and as many orgasms you want is on the table right?’

He was a caretaker, a giver, you knew that about him but so were you and he was starting to make you feel like you weren’t giving him enough. It was a conversation to have, sure, but that would come later. He barely stirred when you slipped out of bed, didn’t make a peep when you tugged on one of his shirts and a pair of underwear, and his kitchen was warm and quiet as you raided the fridge to start cooking right away.

He hadn’t seen you smuggle his gifts home, since you both had still worked up until the holiday, and the wrapped presents were carefully tucked under the tree as the coffee pot percolated and the pan you needed warmed up. Hiding them from him had been embarrassingly easy, for a man that was an FBI agent he seemed to have forgotten that his coffee table had hidden storage because you’d even set a little bit of a trap so you would know if he got into his gifts.

Breakfast was nearly complete when you heard the sleepy call of your name from the bedroom.

“I’m in the kitchen, Marcus.”

You’d thrown on an elf hat for some Christmas humor, hearing your boyfriend hum appreciatively as he walked into the kitchen, and he grabbed your hips as he came up behind you.

“Did Santa leave me one of his helpers for Christmas?”

A small chuckle escaped you as you nodded, watching him pour himself a mug of coffee, and his eyes drifted to the tree over the breakfast bar countertop. You felt the weight of his stare at the boxes in plain sight and resisted the urge to laugh, just barely, and while he didn’t say anything he did pinch your butt and set the table for breakfast.

Only after you sat down did you notice that he had added boxes to the stack and you rolled your eyes at the smug look on his face.

“What time are you going to call your parents?”

“Well, they’re home in Austin since I’m here and Nina is with her girlfriend’s family in Maine. So I figured around three since we’re an hour ahead. Gives them time to get up and have lunch, just relax a bit, you know?”

“Alright, gives me plenty of time to clean up. And get pants on.”

The pair of you laughed, eating while conversing about any last-minute plans that either of you might want to do, and you only asked to watch White Christmas since that was a tradition in your family. Where it started you didn’t know but that had become the Christmas tradition, regardless of any other celebrations it was the only “Christmas-y” thing and this year Marcus was going to be there for the movie stream to meet your family too.

After dishes were cleaned up Marcus joined you in the living room and handed you one of your gifts, taking one of his to rest in front of him. You almost laughed because he picked the biggest of the boxes for each of you. The Razor Crest model in your hands was amazing, you would have to assemble it but that was a good rainy-day project, and Marcus looked thrilled when he began going through the canvas prints you had purchased for him to put up. Some of them were multi-panel pieces while others were single canvas pieces, but all of them were from the students he’d taught for his undercover op.

Your next gift was a new, beefy, set of over-the-ear headphones. These had noise cancellation or you could use the ambient mode to still hear things around you, you had only briefly mentioned these to him so for him to remember? You didn’t bother to mute your delighted cheer. Marcus grinned and then fell silent at the scrapbook you’d put in a pretty gift box; you’d only made and set removable labels for the pages with activities you wanted to do together. Things like going to certain museums or traveling to other cities, all optional but just things you thought were fun and cute.

There was even a page dedicated to the city of Casablanca, it made Marcus wipe the pooling tears out of his eyes.

“You- you want to do all this? With me?”

The unspoken words broke your heart.

You see a future with me?

“Absolutely, I do, Marcus -as long as we do it together, we could change up every little thing on those pages. That’s just ideas and possibilities, we can always pick others.”

His last gift was the smallest of the boxes, and the most expensive, so when he opened it to a Cartier box you watched his eyes go wide before he was so lightly touching the face of the watch you’d chosen for him. It was vintage with a round face and black leather band, the exact one he’d been looking at when you’d gone on a date to a silent auction, and you’d been hiding it for months even before he left for the undercover op. Marcus made a little sound of disbelief and you couldn’t help but grin at him, earning a kiss so good your toes curled and you were ready to ignore the last gift of the night.

But Marcus sat you back down and handed you the box, looking so sure of himself, and when you opened it carefully you frowned at the small cardboard box that was apparently empty. Looking up and freezing at the sight of your boyfriend on one knee, your chest tightened up and the mix of joy and the small bubbling doubts after last time made your eyes water.

“Before you say anything, even if the answer is a ‘not right now’ that’s perfectly fine and it won’t hurt my feelings. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, whether we’re married or not, I just want you to have something to show you that I’m serious about you. You walked into my life needing help and then returned that same genuine kindness months later, you have never treated me like I’m too much and you’ve been so patient with me. I know I spent a lot of our relationship gone, which is why you do not have to say yes to this, but I want to marry you and I hope that someday you might want the same.”

“Marcus I can’t lie and say I’m not anxious about this, I am, but you know the reason why and have been patient with me through my healing process. I love you too, and I do want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to be by your side and explore the world with you one day at a time. I know we can be amazing together, even with you gone you’ve never given me a reason to doubt you, and I would prefer a longer engagement but I’d be willing to sign the papers tomorrow since it’s you..” He slipped the band on your finger and kissed you, promising you as much time as you needed, and you said a silent prayer to whatever higher power was listening to thank them for allowing this man to cross your path when you needed him the most.

After wrapping paper clean up, fawning over gifts, and very pleasurable thank you’s were exchanged he tucked you against his side on the couch and flipped on Netflix so you could continue catching him up on the shows he’d missed while he was working and glancing at your new ring with hope and love warming your heart.

All Fics Taglist: @haylzcyon @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @tauralmie @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @aynsleywalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80 @emiemiemiii

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

#marcus pike x gn!reader #marcus pike x reader #pedrostoriesgift22 #pedrostories #mentalist fanfic #marcus pike #chaoticwrites

81 notes · View notes

baronessblixen · 2 years

Note

Prompt: ‘Mulder, how long till a…urrp! Rest stop? I don’t,’ her intestines gurgled audibly ‘feel good’

Set in (late) season 7. Hurt/comfort/(fluff).

Fictober Day 9 | Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1368

Don't Blame Me, Blame the Food

It starts with a twinge in her stomach. Scully ignores it and takes a few sips from the water bottle she and Mulder are sharing. There’s another twinge and she bites her lip to stop herself from groaning in pain. She doesn’t want to concern Mulder, who seems happy enough driving, rapping his fingers on the wheel, occasionally singing along to the radio.

“Scully, I know you love this song,” he says, glancing over at her. “Sing with me.”

“You know I can’t sing,” she says, nausea overwhelming her. Her tongue seems to big for her mouth and there’s too much saliva. She knows all the signs well enough and she knows what this means. Just because she is aware of it, though, doesn’t mean she’ll address it. If she ignores her gurgling stomach, the sharp pangs, and the waves of nausea long enough, it will all clearly just go away by itself.

“It’s not about sounding good,” he says. “It’s about having fun.”

“I’m singing in my head,” she replies.

“Party pooper.” He chooses the worst possible moment to give her a smile because her stomach protests again and she winces in pain, holding her side.

“Hey Scully,” he says, sounding serious now. “Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” she says, closing her eyes in an attempt to will ache pain away. Except it only makes it worse. Her eyes fly open again and she tries to wipe the sweat from her forehead without Mulder catching the motion. It’s no use. She has no idea how he manages to pay attention to the road and to her at the same time. His hand lands on her thigh and he squeezes it gently.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she says and it sounds whiny. If they stop, she will have to admit that she’s not feeling well. That she might even be sick. She swallows hard, nausea knocking against her intestines.

“Let me know if you need to stop, all right?”

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she assures him, lying through her teeth. She would be fine, she thinks, if he stopped making her talk.

Twenty minutes later she knows she can no longer deny the obvious. She is not fine. At. All.

“Mulder,” she says, his name almost too much already.

“Hm?”

“How long till a…,” she pauses, swallowing. Tears shoot into her eyes. Why is this happening to her? “Till a rest stop? I don’t,” she pauses again, her insides turning against her, her stomach gurgling so loudly that she’s sure Mulder must have heard it. “Feel good.”

“We just passed one. I don’t- it could be a while until the next one.��

The noise she makes is barely human.

“How bad is it?” He asks.

“Very bad,” she says, trying not to cry. She needs a bag. Something. She can’t be sick in the car. Their rental cars have experienced many, many things, but so far neither of them has ever been sick in one. They may have dodged that bullet, but she remembers that time when she was a kid and Charlie got sick in the car, no rest stop in sight. He threw up all over himself and his sisters. Which in turn made Melissa got sick too. The car had reeked for weeks.

“Can you- no, of course you can’t. Hold on, Scully.” Mulder sets the blinker and the car comes to a stop. Getting sick by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere has not been on her bingo card for today – or ever. Wanting to get out as quickly as possible, her fingers are numbly trying to unbuckle her seat belt. In the end, it’s Mulder helping her that frees her from her seat. Scully pulls open the car door and stumbles out. She doesn’t make it far before she can no longer hold it in.

She stands there, hurt and humiliated, but feeling – at least for the moment – a sense of relief. It doesn’t take long until she hears the car door and she knows Mulder is walking up to her.

“Hey,” he says. “Better?” His hand lands on her back and he strokes in gently.

“This is embarrassing,” she says and Mulder hands her a bottle of water.

“Why? You got sick. It happens to the best of us. Do I need to remind you how often I’ve been sick? There’s nothing embarrassing about this. I just want you to feel better.”

“I’m feeling a bit better,” she says, knowing her stomach is not done with her yet.

“We can stay out here for a while. Take all the time you need.”

“You’re not feeling sick at all?” She asks him.

“No,” he admits. “I feel fine. As in really fine, not Scully-fine.”

“Haha,” she says, leaning against him. Her clothes are sweat-soaked and she shivers out here in the breeze. Mulder holds her and hugs her to him, sweat be damned. She’s grateful that he’s here after all. Even if he had to witness her being sick.

“Could it be something else you ate?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “Must have been.” Another wave of nausea crashes over her, surprising her. She just about manages to turn away from Mulder before she gets sick again. This time he’s there for all of it, stroking her back and holding her hair back.

“Oh Scully,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she reminds him. She wonders what it was. The sandwich she and Mulder shared? It can’t be because then he’d be sick too. The breakfast she had earlier? Can’t be that either because Mulder had the same one. There must be something she’s missing.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” she says, realizing she means it. Her stomach is still grumbling, not quite finished throwing a tantrum. But it has settled down, is only growling from a distance. She no longer feels like she’s going to be sick again any minute. She takes another sip from the water bottle to rinse her mouth with it. That will have to do for now.

“We’re stopping at the next motel.”

“Mulder, we’re done here. We have a plane to catch.” He shakes his head.

“We have to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am okay.”

“Puking your guts out is not being okay. So what if we don’t get home before tomorrow? Skinner is always telling us to take a day off. Now we’re doing exactly that.”

“Not the kind of vacation I imagined,” Scully says, following Mulder back to the car.

“We’ll make the best of it,” he says, smiling at her. He stands close to her, blocking the car door. Scully looks up at his soft expression that’s full of worry. She reaches up to touch his cheek, wanting to brush away the worry lines she sees.

“I’m fine, Mulder. My stomach just didn’t agree with something. You’re not thinking about kissing me, are you?”

“I was,” he admits with a grin. “But I think I can wait until later. Let’s go find a place to stay.”

They find a nice hotel and Mulder pays for their room with his personal credit card. Scully walks out of the bathroom just as Mulder is on the phone with Skinner, informing their boss that they won’t be back tonight, or possibly even tomorrow, depending on Scully’s health. She rolls her eyes in amusement, running her fingers through Mulder’s hair to let him know she’s not mad.

“Um, Scully,” Mulder says once he’s hung up the phone. He doesn’t need to say anything because she can see it written clearly on his face. She steps aside and he dashes past her into the bathroom.

“I think it was the sandwich after all,” Mulder says once Scully has joined him in the bathroom. He’s leaning over the toilet bowl, looking terrible. She kneels bis his side, rubbing his back, just like he did for her earlier.

“Good thing we stopped, huh?” She touches his warm cheek and he nods. “I’ll see if they have Pepto-Bismol for us.”

“We’re gonna take a real vacation after this,” Mulder swears before he gets sick once more.

#fictober2022 #every day i don't know what to write #then i start and the words just come #thank you everyone for reading and for being kind <3 #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

73 notes · View notes

ruminate88 · 15 days

Text

06/22/24

I actually am closer right now to my mom-in law than my husband but I don’t tell her everything. She is starting to understand somewhat not all of it but some and of course my father in law is sweet AND he will always wish me happy v-day, or happy b-day when my husband doesn’t. My husband shows love through “gifts”. He’ll buy me a $200 gift for my b-day and watch me open it but won’t write me a card or say he loves me…. I’ve tried to understand his love language and wish he could understand mine too 🫣🥴

I’ve tried to express it once before that I’m NOT ungrateful for gifts just... I know how hard my man works and how much his job sucks. He’s stuck in a factory daily in the heat, with this heavy metal helmet on his head to shield him from the sparks. He has burnt welts on his arms from the heat. (He’s a welder) so…. My empathy says to feel sorry for him and I’ve mentioned to him so many times about getting an easier job but he won’t change. He doesn’t think he can start over somewhere else and ok. I don’t push, just want him to be happy…. So, he works hard to earn a paycheck. I don’t want it 😭😭😭😭 like I mean everyone wants gifts on their birthday and Christmas, that’s normal but not for me. I feel so bad. I feel bad cuz like I’m scared. I feel like no guy before has ever cared about me and why now??? It’s not that I don’t believe my husband but also he won’t say “I love you”????? I wanna hear it sooooo badly. I can taste it. I wanna hear my husband say he wants me and thinks I’m good enough: I know actions speak louder than words. Just I’m a word person. Words is what I know. Even if he did say it, would I feel it??? 😣😣😣 (also, don’t say it unless you mean it. I also stopped saying I love you to him cuz he doesn’t say it back and neither did Andrew) 😝

him coming home every day after work and being here speaks volumes but then he hops onto his video games after dinner and so I just sit by myself and feel bad. I don’t ever feel comfortable to express how I feel. I tried at the start of our marriage to say “you can’t just play video games 24/7, what about me???” But then my husband got defensive and said at one point he didn’t feel good enough for me 😭😭😭😭 I tried to tell him that Andrew said that so many times so I am scared hearing that again. It makes me wanna run away!

my husband won’t hear me out. Last time I tried to say how I felt, he accused me of talking to other guys and wow that hurt me so much and made me go deeper into my hole.(my husband said I pulled away from him) I have written many many HEARTBREAK songs about my past and that upset my husband cuz he thinks I love my exes and not him but ok… I’m JUST NOW learning about emotional abuse and making sense of my past but still don’t have alll the answers. There’s still confusion to some degree AND I wasn’t fully over Andrew when I dated my husband cuz Andrew came back to mess with my head some more and I was torn. I loved Andrew so much but he kept hurting me and I wanted Andrew to come back but I knew that was bad for me…. my husband had to threaten Andrew to leave me alone and so if I bring up Andrew now, will that upset my husband? He told me Andrew would only keep messing with me unless I blocked his number. I blocked Andrew’s number out of respect for my new man cuz we just started dating and I was trying to trust that my new man had my best interest but I wasn’t sure.

sucks to know you loved someone you can’t have cuz they can only harm you. It’s like loving drugs when drugs only destroys you. Same exact problem! Knowing this helps but doesn’t fix my issues. I know I need to pray more and push more but also I’ve sorta stepped back and just sunk into the couch with my headphones and just play music and close my eyes. Just feel my sadness and anger. I don’t think it’s bad, just it’s finally dealing with it but I’ve also beat myself up cuz most people would tell me to “put on my big girl pants” and “move on.” They would say Andrew is a dickhead and I shouldn’t care about him but you can’t just erase feelings… what’s wrong with people??

so where do you feel safe to talk to people anyway?? You don’t wanna be judged. I was judged in every past relationship I had. They would brag on my body, tell me how bad they want to “bang me” and are obsessed with me but then put me down afterwards and slut shame me. Andrew was like “why would you even get with me like that when you know we’re just friends now?? You don’t respect our friendship….” Uggggh dude, you SAID YOU WANTED ME 😓💔 don’t say you want me, use me and then tell me what a horrible person I am. Why did I deserve that at all??? I’ve done nothing but care about my exes and want the best for them. That will NEVER change cuz my heart is pure and legit. You can’t take away my love. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

but right now I’m too scared to push past this barrier in front of me. People won’t shut up about me having kids. They think I don’t want kids and nooo you don’t understand. All I’ve ever wanted was to be a wife and mother. I already helped to raise my bro’s kids. I’m tired. Just mentally done. I only want to help myself this time. I put everyone else’s needs before my own since I was 15. What about me now??? When do I get help?? I’m trying so very very hard to get better. I feel like I’m in slow motion though ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

2 notes · View notes

magnoliabloomfield · 2 years

Text

It Happened in the Kitchen

Slivko x Maybelle from my fanfic Under Normal Circumstances.

Summary: it’s their anniversary and Slivko tries to make a cake. Emphasis on “tries”.

Requested by @whourfeyrac

Warnings: SFW but implied love making, fade to black. No cursing. Just domestic fluff.

🍰🎂🍰🎂

“What… happened?” Maybelle asked in a controlled tone as she stood at the threshold of the kitchen and surveyed the state it was in.

Slivko stood there with as much flour on him as was on the counters, much more than was in the mixing bowl at this point.

He sighed and ran a hand down his face, feeling dry and gritty.

“Happy anniversary?” He said as his hand fell to his side and sent up a little white cloud.

Maybelle’s face took on that look, the one where he could hear the “awe!” she was holding in. She left foot prints across the kitchen tile when she came up to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She tried to give him a kiss but quickly pulled back, wiping flour off her lips with the back of her hand before she wiped his mouth off too and tried again.

“So… what were you going for?” She asked after she broke the kiss, still holding onto him.

“Chocolate cake- devil’s food because I know it’s your favorite,” he answered and watched her bite her bottom lip adorably. “But apparently I’m an idiot who-“

“You are not an idiot,” she said firmly, squeezing him a little tighter. “You, sir, learned how to fly a helicopter. There is no way you can be an idiot.”

All his frustration melted away at that and he wondered if she could see how pink he was blushing under the layers of flour. He couldn’t deny how happy being with Maybelle made him, she was always on his side and never allowed him to be too hard on himself. Even when she was correcting him she was on his side because her goal was always to draw them closer together and keep them together, rather than her ever just wanting to be “right”.

He grinned down at her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She gave him a smile before tucking her head under his chin and hugging him back. She took a deep breath, like she usually did during hugs like these, and was thrown into a sneezing fit by all the flour she inhaled.

“What seems to be giving you trouble?” She asked when she was finished sneezing.

He showed her the instructions, a little recipe card he’d gotten from Penny, and explained what he’d done. Maybelle didn’t tell him anything outright, but rather she asked him some leading questions. He liked that she just leaned on the counter, chin resting cutely on her hands as she watched him. He wanted to do this for her on his own, but it was still much more fun having her around.

After he put the cake in the oven they cleaned up the kitchen together. With a few minutes left on the timer, she turned on the radio and tuned it till she found something to dance to. Slivko smiled as her hand found his and pulled him closer in the middle of the kitchen. She loved to dance with him in the kitchen and he loved that about her.

It seemed like more than the oven was getting heated in there. Slivko almost forgot the cake entirely in favor of something else sweet as his hands strayed farther from normal dance positions. She watched him with a knowing look in her eye but didn’t stop him or say anything. He knew how to get an answer from her.

He spun her out and pulled her back in, her back to his chest with her arms wrapped around herself. Trapped in this gentle prison he leaned down and buried his face in her neck. It was her most ticklish spot and he found that if she allowed kisses there it meant she was up for more, but if she just giggled and turned into a turtle it wasn’t the time.

She leaned her head back against his shoulder so he went for it. He made little pink marks on her skin from her ear to her collar bone before he was interrupted by the timer.

She tried to step away but he held her fast.

“Slivie,” she giggled. “Let’s take the cake out and turn the oven off so we don’t burn the house down.”

He let her hands go but clung to her waist as she moved to get the oven mitts and then over to the stove to take out the cake. His body followed her motions even as she bent over to get the cake and he kissed her back through her shirt.

The cake was left in the pan, oven hastily turned off before she turned in his arms and started kissing him now. The first kiss she ever gave him, the first kiss she’d ever given anyone, had been simple and innocent. She’d learned a lot since then.

He pulled back from her eager lips to look into her eyes. Her pupils were large and he could swear he saw little hearts in them as she peered up at him.

“That’s one year down, Mrs. Slivko. Do you want to sign on for another?” He asked her, feeling her hands find the hem of his t-shirt.

“Aye aye captain,” she breathed as she tiptoed to reach his lips again.

He laughed. “That’s the navy,” he corrected.

“Would you complain if I told you you had permission to come aboard?” She asked.

“Aye aye captain,” he repeated as he scooped her up and carried her off for their personal anniversary celebration.

And afterwards there would be cake. Slivko didn’t think it could get any better than that.

“Remember your dream car?” She asked out of the blue when they were halfway to the bedroom.

“Uh huh,” he said though he could barely remember anything that wasn’t what he wanted to be doing right then.

“When we’re done,” she kissed him once more. “Look in the driveway.” She whisper the last bit in his ear before kissing his neck.

Yes, the fact that she had bought him a car, his dream car, and it was sitting in the driveway that very moment was exciting. But he didn’t need to see it just then. There could be a fleet of cars waiting out there for him, but all he wanted and all he cared about was already there in his arms and all he wanted to do was prove that to her.

#Slivko #reg Slivko #Kong skull island #under normal circumstances #Maybelle

23 notes · View notes

hummingbird-of-light · 1 year

Text

Against All Odds

Part 629

McCoy

“What?” McCoy asked at the questioning look on Scotty’s face.

“Ye and Aaron?”

McCoy glanced around as the door to the change room opened. Another pair of boys were exiting. McCoy took Scotty’s arm and they began to move.

“I’ll fill you in later?” McCoy asked quietly.

“Ok,” Scotty agreed slowly. “I’ve something to tell ye too. But private is better.”

They were nearly to the door when a voice called McCoy’s name. Both turned to see Christine hurrying up behind them.

“Are we going to get a chance to catch up after dinner? I want to hear how your break was,” Christine said.

McCoy glanced over her shoulder to see Jocelyn walking to meet Christine.

“I would love to Chris,” McCoy answered. “But not if she’s around.” The words came out stiffly, as Jocelyn stopped at Christine’s side.

Before either girl could answer, McCoy turned, grabbing Scotty’s fingers and went through the door. A quick pace got them to the boy’s dining hall.

“Chris isn’t happy,” Scotty observed.

“Neither am I about this,” McCoy said shortly. “I thought Chris was a better friend than this. All the help she gave us…”

“She is,” Scotty defended her. “Ye said it last night, it’s hard when you don’t want to say why.”

McCoy sighed. “I hate this.”

Scotty pulled him into an alcove outside the dining hall, and wrapped his arms around McCoy.

“We’ll get through it, love. We’ve been through worse. After all she’s not a Romulan.”

McCoy couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped him, and he pressed a kiss to Scotty’s lips after.

“Thanks leannan,” he whispered.

“What did ye and Aaron talk about?”

McCoy took a breath. “He wanted to know if she was a good person. He said the way I reacted last night told him she wasn’t.”

“That’s a surprise. He seems like one who’d be first in line for the lass.”

“I know,” McCoy agreed. “He’s not a bad guy. He made a mistake once, and he’s never seemed to have any more issues with me.” McCoy shrugged. “I didn’t tell him anything, just said to be careful around her.”

Scotty nodded, but then a shudder seemed to pass through him.

“What?”

“Can ye imagine if Khan were still here?”

McCoy felt his eyes widen. Jocelyn would definitely have tried to befriend the augment. Just the thought made his stomach twist.

McCoy was sitting with Scotty in the lounge after dinner, trying to decide if they wanted to play the next winners at billiards or grab a deck of cards.

Jaylah plopped down next to McCoy.

“I was right, Just Leonard,” she said and McCoy raised a brow in question at her. “I told you I knew it was your princess sister Robbie was talking with every night.”

“That was never confirmed by the palace,” McCoy said, trying to hide a smile.

“You know it is true! We all know! We saw them together before, it makes sense.”

McCoy let out a laugh. “Yeah, well, I know that wasn’t how they wanted it to come out.”

“Reporters are mean!” Jaylah said.

“Yes, they can be,” McCoy agreed.

Two people sat in the chairs in front of them. McCoy looked over to see Christine in one and Jocelyn in the other. Instantly the smile left his face.

“I forgot I have some biochem work to finish,” he said in an empty voice to Scotty. He began to get up, and heard Christine let out a frustrated noise. McCoy glared at Jocelyn and began to leave the room.

“Leonard McCoy!”

He turned to see Christine standing and staring after him.

“What?”

Christine took a few strides to meet him.

“What’s your problem? Why are you being such a jerk?”

McCoy’s anger began to churn in his stomach.

“Chris—” Scotty tried to say, but McCoy waved a hand at him to stop.

“I’m a jerk?” McCoy asked, keeping his voice even. “Ok.” He turned to leave again. Let Christine learn who Jocelyn really was on her own.

“You’re acting like a baby!” Christine said, grabbing his arm to stop him.

The noise in the room had died down as everyone began to watch the scene unfolding.

“Fine,” McCoy said and pulled his arm away.

“I thought you were better than this,” Christine spat out at him.

McCoy stopped. He took a breath before turning around and walking the couple steps back. He grabbed Christine’s arm.

“You wanna know what my problem is? Fine, then I’ll tell you!” Holding tight to her arm, McCoy half pulled, half pushed Christine from the lounge.

Part 630

Scotty

Scotty couldn't help but stare after his fiancé and Christine. He knew that Leonard was upset, but to let everyone see it once again had probably been a big mistake.

He felt his heart beating in his chest, knowing that every student in the lounge was still looking at the place where they were standing. Their eyes were fixed on Jocelyn.

Scotty swallowed hardly, exchanging a glance with his brother who wasn't standing too far away.

They both had the same question on their mind - what would Jocelyn do now?

For a moment the lass just stood there, flabbergasted, before tears filled her eyes and she ran off.

Some girls followed her, Uhura being one of them. Other students started to chat once again, probably talking about what had happened just now.

Scotty let out a heavy sigh and was surprised when a hand touched his arm.

He looked aside to see Jaylah staring at him. The alien girl had stood up, just like him.

"That Jocelyn girl... I do not see why Just Leonard acts so strange around her. She is very friendly towards everyone."

Scotty gently patted Jaylah's hand that was resting on his arm and together they sat down again.

"Ye see... some things happened between them. Things Leonard doesn't want to talk about."

Jaylah tilted her head in confusion.

"Do you know about these things, Montgomery Scotty?"

He hesitated for a moment, before he nodded.

"Aye. I do."

His counterpart blinked several times, obviously trying to compute Scotty's response.

"Then why don't you tell people? If Just Leonard can't... or doesn't want to."

A weak smile crossed the Scotsman's lips. That was Jaylah. Pure innocence.

"I cannae do this, lassie. It is not my part to tell people about things Leonard wants to keep private."

Jaylah huffed, leaning back, arms folded.

"But it would make things easier."

At that, Scotty couldn't help a soft chuckle.

"Aye, it would for sure. But life's not always easy."

The two of them fell silent for a while, before Scotty suggested a change of topic. Instead of gossiping like others, they talked about Jaylah's plans for the future and her dream of being an engineer.

When Jocelyn returned with the other girls, Scotty swallowed down the big lump in his throat.

He would try his best to ignore her. Even though he wanted nothing more than to snap at her for acting the way she did.

However, his plan failed as soon as Jocelyn stepped over to him. There was a smile on her face.

"Uhm, hey, I'm sorry about what happened with Leonard and Christine."

Scotty just raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah well... ye should apologize to them, not me."

Jocelyn sighed heavily before she sat down next to the Scotsman. Jaylah had left a bit earlier to finish some homework.

"You really think that Leonard is telling you the truth, don't you?"

The girl's voice was nothing more than a mere whisper. There was a strange undertone in it.

Scotty rolled his eyes, trying his best not to groan.

"What are ye getting at?"

A hand was placed on his arm, so he quickly pulled it away.

"Why don't you ask him about the summer when we were kids?"

Scotty couldn't stop the frown forming on his face. He hated that strange feeling that filled the pit of his stomach.

"See what he'll tell you."

Before he could say anything, Jocelyn already got up. She gave him a meaningful glance, then left to go talk to the others.

Scotty looked after her.

What was she going on about?

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #against all odds

4 notes · View notes